New Directions: Samcedes fic
by LadyPagemaster7
Summary: Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones start a friendship in 1965 Lima, Ohio. Lots of plot twists in the story. Every character even the supporting ones will have good development. There's some racial tension, but also a good amount of comedy. I do not own any of the glee characters
1. Chapter 1

**New Directions: School Dance McKinley High 1965 Lima, Ohio**

"Baby, get me some punch would you?" Shane said, as he continued to ignore his girlfriend. An hour had already passed at the dance and he still hadn't asked her to share one with him. Twice a year the student council would put on a dance so that the North high school, McKinley, and South high school, Roosevelt, that was predominantly black, could meet up for some friendly fun. But usually it was mainly the whites keeping to themselves and the blacks doing the same, usually taking refuge on either wall of the gym.

Mercedes Jones had never attended one of these dances, since she usually spent her Friday nights doing homework, but it was her senior year and she wanted to have some fun for a change. Her boyfriend, Shane Tinsley, star lineman of Roosevelt seemed determined not to dance. Instead he retold his Friday night football tales to his adoring fangirls and teammates. Mercedes, who had already heard the stories about fifty times already, left to go get some punch at the table at near the entrance of the gym.

Mercedes poured herself a cup, taking a sip. She looked at her dress and sighed in disappointment. She was wearing her favorite picnic dress that accentuated her curves perfectly. Her hair was done in a high ponytail with her bangs curled to the side. Her mom even lent her the white pearl necklace.

"Hey,"

Mercedes looked up. A handsome boy in a McKinley letterman jacket with green eyes and a crooked smile had come up to her. She had seen him across the gym staring at her, but she wasn't sure if his eyes were just missing her and he was actually looking at someone else.

"Hi," Mercedes said, slightly confused as to why this boy was talking to her.

"I've seen you before. You and your brother sang at my church once," he said, his country accent coming out. "Maybe," Mercedes said, sipping her punch. "You're names' Mercedes right?" Sam said. "That's me," Mercedes said. Awkward silence fell between the two.

"I'm Sam Evans," the boy said.

"I know who you are," Mercedes admitted. "I do read the newspapers you know."

Sam blushed, leaning against the table. Sam Evans was the star quarterback of McKinley High and even made All-American that year.

"Yeah, umm I just wanted to introduce myself… I think you have a beautiful singing voice," Sam said. "Thank you, Mr. Evans," Mercedes said, giving him a small smile.

"Is that all or you still have something on your mind?" Mercedes added after Sam still stayed at the punch table. Sam bit his bottom lip. "And maybe I wanted to ask you to dance," he said. The two laughed.

"That's sweet but my boyfriend is standing over there," Mercedes said, pointing over to the wall on the other side of the gym, where Shane was still telling his stories.

"He's an idiot," Sam said, straightening his letterman jacket, and fixing his tie.

"Excuse me?" Mercedes said, raising an eyebrow.

"Any boy would have to be. Leaving you alone like this," Sam told her.

"You're trouble," Mercedes said, laughing.

Sam held out his hand.

"Come on. One dance and you can go back to Mr. Idiot over there, and I promise to leave you alone…Unless the real reason you don't want to dance is because you're afraid."

Sam had said the magic words. Mercedes put her cup down. "Excuse me, Mr Evans. Mercedes Jones is not afraid of anything. You just better hope your country self can dance," Mercedes said, taking his hand.

Sam's face beamed, pulling the girl of his dreams out to the middle of the floor where other couples were dancing. The Contours' Do You Love Me started playing.

_You broke my heart  
'Cause I couldn't dance  
You didn't even want me around  
And now I'm back, to let you know  
I can really shake 'em down_

Mercedes squealed. "This is my song!" she said excitedly, as Sam spun her around. "Alright girl then show me what you can do!," Sam said, letting go of her hand. Mercedes winked at the quarterback swinging her hips to the music, circling him.

_Do you love me? (I can really move)_  
_Do you love me? (I'm in the groove)_  
_Ah do you love? (Do you love me)_  
_Now that I can dance (dance)_

Sam started doing his best Elvis twist. He grabbed Mercedes' arm twirling her into him, holding her close as he body rolled on her. She fanned herself playfully as Sam looked at her seductively, holding her waist to his.

_Watch me now, oh (work, work)  
Ah, work it all baby (work, work)  
Well, you're drivin' me crazy (work, work)  
With a little bit of soul now (work)_

"Shane! Ain't that yo girl with that white boy?" One of Shane's friends said. Shane looked to the dance floor to see Mercedes shaking her stuff with Sam Evans. The whole crowd watched them, half of them gawking and the other half cheering.

_I can mash-potato (I can mash-potato)  
And I can do the twist (I can do the twist)  
Now tell me baby (tell me baby)  
Mmm, do you like it like this (do you like it like this)  
Tell me (tell me)  
Tell me_

"Ah Hell Naw. Mercedes!"

Shane marched to the dance floor, ready to break up the two who were laughing and still holding each other.

"Mercedes! What're you doing?" Shane said. Mercedes let go of Sam, her face still hot from her dance with Sam. Sam breathed heavily next to her, unable to wipe the confident grin from his face.

"I'm just dancing. Uh this is Sam," Mercedes said. Sam held out his hand, but Shane refused to shake it.

"It's late. I'm taking you home. Now." Shane said sternly.

"But it's only been an hour. I've only gotten to dance once," Mercedes said, starting to get upset at her boyfriend's childish behavior.

"You heard me Mercedes! I'll go get your coat," Shane said, walking away to get their stuff.

Mercedes turned back to Sam, giving him a sad smile.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Sam Evans," Mercedes said politely, fixing her hair a little.

"This can't be it," Sam said, shaking his head.

"Shane is my ride. I have to leave when he does," Mercedes said.

"I'll take you home. Just don't go yet," Sam said, taking Mercedes hand gently. Mercedes looked into the handsome boy's green eyes. She smiled. "You are trouble Sam Evans," she said, straightening his collar. "You know you couldn't drop me off on my side of town without everyone talking."

"I don't care what everybody thinks. Just stay please," Sam said. Sam knew tonight was special the moment he saw Mercedes across the gym. After seeing her sing at his church he was went crazy the next few weeks, because he knew there could be a chance he would never see her again. This second chance had to be God smiling down on him. He wouldn't let this opportunity go."

"Baby. You ready?" Shane said, arriving with Mercedes coat and purse in hand. Mercedes looked once more into Sam's eyes. Why did he look at her like that? Mercedes wondered. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew there was something special about him. He was different.

"I gotta go," Mercedes said, letting go of Sam's hand. Mercedes walked to Shane, taking her coat and purse. Sam watched as his dream girl walked away with Shane. But then she stopped suddenly. She said something to Shane Sam couldn't hear from so far away. She quickly walked to the punch table out of Shane's view, pouring herself another cup, and taking a napkin. She took a pen out of her purse, writing something down. She walked over to Sam who was still standing in the same place. "Here. You looked kind of thirsty," Mercedes said, handing him the punch. She winked at him and quickly caught up with her boyfriend. Sam watched the two leave before looking down at the cup. He noticed he could see some numbers being magnified in the reflection of the cup. Sam looked at the red napkin. She had wrote down her number and the time to call her.

"Yes! Thank you God." Sam whispered under his breath, putting the napkin in his pocket. It was a good night.


	2. Chapter 2

**New Directions Part 2**

Shane pulled up to Mercedes house, turning off the engine. He made to get out of the car.

**Mercedes**: Uh what are you doin?

**Shane**: I was going to tell your dad about my big win last Friday

**Mercedes**: You're not coming in my house

**Shane**: What? Why?

**Mercedes**: Uh you think you can be selfish and cut my night short, talkin bout its late and you ready to go, but also think you can waltz up into my house and spend hours talkin about your stupid game.

**Shane**: Baby

**Mercedes**: Don't call me baby! You know good and well my momma only lets me out once in a blue moon and you decided to use that time to entertain your friends and ignore me.

**Shane**: Me? Let's talk about you dancing with that white boy

**Mercedes**: That white boy's name is Sam

**Shane**: I know who the hell he is! What the hell were you thinking?

**Mercedes**: I was thinking thank God someone asked me to dance!

**Shane**: You lost your damn mind

**Mercedes**: No, you lost your mind thinking you could raise your voice at me in the gym. I ain't gonna have you barking orders at me in front of people. I was two seconds from smackin the black off of you.

**Shane**: Oh you think you so high and mighty cause you so smart and yo family is so well off. But you still just like any other black girl in this town tryin to find a husband to take care of your ass.

**Mercedes**: I don't need you taking care of me.

**Shane**: Who else is gonna do it? That white boy? To him you ain't nothing but a pretty nigger

SMACK

Shane held the side of his face where his girlfriend had slapped him. Mercedes stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her. Shane rolled down the window.

"Baby, I didn't mean it," Shane said.

"Go home Shane," Mercedes said calmly, walking to her front porch. She used her key to let herself in…

**ONE WEEK LATER**

Mercedes couldn't believe it. Her eyes had to be deceiving her. That white boy with blonde hair and green eyes just happened to look exactly like quarterback Sam Evans. He wasn't actually sitting in her church, near the back, clapping along with the congregation, off beat one might add. Any doubt of the boy's identity Mercedes had while she stood in the choir stands, was done away with when the boy smiled and waved at her.

"Oh my Lord," Mercedes mouthed, "What am I going to do with this white man."

From the moment she met Sam Evans, Mercedes Jones knew he was trouble. Last week they shared ONE dance and her life was turned upside down. She couldn't give Sam all the blame. She did give him her number after all, to which he called the very next day. But Mercedes thought that the call would not lead to much. She was convinced Sam was just suffering from "color curiosity," as her brother would call it, and he would quickly lose interest in her. Not the case. After a two- hour long phone call, for which Mercedes almost got in trouble for because it interfered with dinner time, Sam successfully gathered as much information on his dream girl as he could, leading to an eventual takeover of Mercedes Jones' life. On Monday, Sam joined the Student Civil Rights Organization club for which Mercedes was Vice President. He even got three other McKinley jocks to join with him. On Wednesday he got a Library card so he could check out and re-check out all the books Mercedes would have to help him with, because she worked there during the week. After Mercedes refused to have dinner him for the third time, he took it as a sign from God that he should try harder, and showed up at her church, where she sang in the choir every Sunday.

When the song ended and the congregation gave a hearty amen, Mercedes snuck down quietly. She gave Sam a look, saying follow her outside. He got the message. When the two reached the church foyer, Mercedes let him have it.

**Mercedes**: What are you doing?

**Sam**: Going to church. What are you doing?

**Mercedes**: Why can't you go to your own church?

**Sam**: {slyly}The music is better here. Plus yall's seats are more comfortable. Not everything is about you ya know

**Mercedes**: Do you see me smiling? This is not funny.

**Sam**: Has anyone ever told you worry too much?

**Mercedes**: And you don't worry enough. You can't just walk up in the heights like its nothing.

**Sam**: I didn't walk. I took the bus.

**Mercedes**: What is wrong with you!

**Sam**: I love how your nose scrunches up when you're angry.

**Mercedes**: Leave!

**Sam**: Not until you agree to have dinner with me at my house on Monday

**Mercedes**: I can't

**Sam**: You can't. Alright, then I'm going back in. I'm a lost soul that needs saving. THE LORD IS GOOD!

"AMEN BROTHA," a passing deacon said in response.

**Mercedes**: Shhh! Okay okay! Monday.

A cocky grin appeared on Sam's face. "Good. I'll see you then Miss. Jones," he said, as Mercedes slowly led him to the exit.

As Sam's father would put it, 'he had it bad.' Mercedes Jones was everything he looked for in a girl. She was smart, pretty, loved the Lord, and didn't take crap from anybody. She even inspired him to learn more about race relations. Excited from the peaceful message her club preached, he even invited some of his football friends to join. Before Mercedes, the only book Sam ever finished was _See Spot Run_. He was partial to Superman comics, and disliked reading because the words jumbled up in his head. But Mercedes was patient with him and helped him with some books he checked out. Sam knew he was getting on Mercedes' nerves, and that eventually she would get her brother to shoot him. But it was the quiet moments with her, when she would laugh at his impressions, and when she would hold his hand as he read out loud that convinced him she felt the same way about him as he did about her. Sam couldn't get mad at Mercedes' when she pushed him away, because he knew, though he wasn't, most everyone else in Lima was bothered by race mixing. But times were changing, and Sam believed wholeheartedly that he and Mercedes could make something special together. He just had to convince her to believe it to – without out her killing him.

Monday morning came and Mercedes found herself thanking God she didn't go to McKinley. The halls of Roosevelt High were the only place she was safe from the onslaught of Samuel Evans. He was exasperatingly diligent in courting Mercedes, even though the action may well get her house burned down. But even this thought, could not wipe the smile off her face when she thought of him during the day. She knew she liked him, and worst of all he knew it too. But that didn't change how the town of Lima thought, and it annoyed Mercedes that Sam couldn't understand that. However, at the end of the day, she knew in her heart if everyone was like Sam Evans, the world would be significantly better for blacks and whites.

Mercedes sat next to her friend Kurt Hummel in the cafeteria. Kurt was one of twelve white kids who went to Roosevelt. He used to go to McKinley when his family first moved to town, but the students there bullied him for having a high pitched voice so he transferred schools. Kurt wasn't like any other boy Mercedes knew. He was fast-talking and very witty, and fit in more with the girls of Roosevelt than the boys. He was the only one who knew about her and Sam, since he was also part of the Student Civil Rights group.

"What's eating you?" Kurt asked, noticing how quiet Mercedes was being. "I'm supposed to have dinner at Sam's house tonight," Mercedes confessed. "So you finally caved huh," Kurt said, sipping his juice box. "I'm pretty sure if I didn't, he'd show up to my father's practice to get his tooth pulled," Mercedes said jokingly, but secretly telling the truth.

**Kurt**: Well, it may not be so bad

**Mercedes**: Yeah but do you think he told his parents that I'm a negro?

**Kurt**: I should think so

**Mercedes**: But you know how he is. Sam thinks color doesn't mean anything. I could very well step into that house and have a room full of white people scream bloody murder.

**Kurt**: BUT maybe Sam is the way he is, because his parents raised him that way.

**Mercedes**: … You know I never thought of that. But he could also just be blind to his parents' subtle racism. Like how would he really know how his parents feel about color if they've never had a negro in their house?

**Kurt**: Well, there's only one way to find out.

**Mercedes**: Maybe I don't want to find out.

**Kurt**: No no you've already come too far Mercedes. You lost your football star boyfriend

**Mercedes**: I didn't lose him. He was a jerk and I dumped him.

**Kurt**: You've converted Sam to Christianity

**Mercedes**: I didn't convert him. He followed me to church.

**Kurt**: And you convinced him to join the Civil Rights movement

**Mercedes**: He attended ONE meeting, Kurt

**Kurt**: The point is whether you like it or not, Sam Evans is in your life, and he isn't going anywhere. So you might as well get to know him.

**Mercedes**: {exhaling}Okay. You're right

**Kurt**: I'm always right. Remember that.

Mercedes wasn't completely sure if she was at the right place. After two bus rides, and helpful directions from a wino, she ended up on a dirt road in front of a rickety trailer home. The numbers on the half broken mailbox was correct. This had to be the place. Mercedes walked up to the porch. "Please don't get shot," she muttered to herself as she fixed her hair. Holding her famous sweet-potato pie in her left hand, she knocked on the door with her right.

She could make out voices in chattering in the house.

"Oh my God she's here!" she heard Sam say.

"Don't swear, Samuel," Mercedes heard a woman say.

"You two quit runnin in the house," she heard a man say.

"I wanna get the door!" Mercedes heard a little boy shout.

A little boy opened the trailer door. The boy looked no older than seven. He was wearing jean overalls, and from his condition, looked like he was playing in the dirt all day. The boy looked Mercedes up and down, a devious grin coming on his face. "Samuel! That girl you keep singing songs about is here!"

"I'm gonna kill you Stevie!" Sam said, appearing at the door, picking up his little brother and tossing him in the couch. "Samuel! What did I tell you about throwing your brother!" a woman's voice yelled. Mercedes couldn't help but laugh, as a red-faced Sam let her in. He was wearing brown dinner jacket. It was old looking due the weathered edges and the patch at the elbow, but Sam still managed to look handsome.

"You must be Mercedes."

A middle-aged white woman, wearing a seasoned yellow dress came from the kitchen. She could be no older than forty, but the crows feet around her tired eyes aged her a little. She wore a flower apron and a kind smile on her face.

"Yes. Nice to meet you ma'am," Mercedes said, holding out her hand.

"Oh we hug round here darlin," Mrs. Evans said, embracing Mercedes. Mercedes, who was slightly surprised, hugged the woman back with her free arm. Mrs. Evans took the pie from her, putting it on the small table. Mercedes felt something pulling at her dress. She looked down to see a little blonde girl, who looked about six, staring up at her. "You wanna see where I sleep?" she asked, though she didn't wait for Mercedes to respond, taking her hand and showing her the couch where Sam had thrown his little brother.

"I sleep on this side, and Stevie sleeps on that side. He kicks me when he has nightmares. Can I touch your hair?"

"Uh, sure," Mercedes said, bending over. The girl touched one curl of Mercedes hair. The girl giggled, showing two missing teeth, then she smelled Mercedes neck. "You're right Sammy, she does smell like wildflowers," said the girl.

"I never said that," Sam said to Mercedes as he snatched his little sister and covered her mouth. It was weird for Mercedes to see Sam so nervous. She was usually the one who was losing it, and while Sam stayed confident and cool.

"That's enough yall. Darlin, you can have a seat right here," a man said, pulling a chair at the table for Mercedes. There was no doubt that this was Sam's father. He was tall and had the same dirty blonde hair as Sam, but with gray streaks running through. His green eyes looked kind and yet very wise. "Thank you," Mercedes said, as everyone came to the table. Sam's little brother and sister fought to see who would get the seat next to Mercedes to which the little sister won, after she bit Stevie. "No fair. She already got to touch her hair!" Stevie said, before Sam smacked him upside his head and let him share his seat. The table fit four comfortably, so Mr. Evans used a chair from the sitting room, while Stevie sat on Sam's lap at the end of the square table. Mrs. Evans and Stacie sat on either side of Mercedes. They all took hands as Mrs. Evans said grace.

"Dear Lord, thank you for brining Dwight home safely from his road job," Mrs. Evans began, "And also I wanna thank you Lord for Sam's new lady friend. She's very pretty and nowhere near as chatty as that Rachel Berry girl,"

"AMEN" Mr. Evans and Stevie said in response, with their eyes still closed.

"Bless us and keep us safe Lord. Amen," Mrs. Evans finished.

Everyone opened their eyes. Mercedes, who had opened her eyes half way, was looking at the now blushing Sam.

"Who's Rachel?" she asked, as Mrs. Evans passed her the green beans.

"She's this loud girl that lives a block from us. Her father is the jewish businessman who owns the drugstore on Main street. She's kind of had her eye on Sam since junior year, when she asked him to the prom. Sam couldn't go though, because we were low on funds that winter" Mrs. Evans said.

"First time I was ever glad we were poor," Stevie said. Sam pinched his little brother. "What! I'm just repeating what Dad said. Mrs. Evans hit her husband. "Sorry Momma," Mr. Evans said, though he still wore a cool smile on his face. "So, Mercedes I hear you're a singer," Mr. Evans said, taking a bite of his food.

"I sing here and there. Mostly for local churches," Mercedes said.

"You should have been there when she sang at our church, Dwight. Voice like an angel," Mrs. Evans said.

"Really, now. Well we'll have to see about that after dinner won't we," Mr. Evans said winking at his Sam. "You sing?" Mercedes asked Mr. Evans. "He's the best," Sam said, clapping a hand on his dad's shoulder.

"I sang back up for a few notable country western stars," said Mr. Evans, puffin out his chest a little in pride.

"Which artists?" Mercedes asked.

"Well uh, you ever heard of Willie Nelson?" Mr. Evans asked.

"Sure!" Mercedes said.

"What about Johnny Cash?" Mr. Evans continued.

"Of course!" Mercedes replied, already impressed.

"Yeah, well I didn't sing back up them," Mr. Evans said, deflating his chest.

"Oh," Mercedes said, giving Mr. Evans a sympathetic look before being overtaken by a fit of giggles. Mrs. Evans quickly joined in. Mercedes looked at Sam who was watching her nervously. He gave her a soft smile, as if to say 'sorry about my family'. But Mercedes just kept on laughing. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed so hard.

"It's okay sweetheart. I still think you're a star," Mrs. Evans said, leaning over and kissing her husband. "Thanks Mamma," Mr. Evans said.

After dinner the family moved to the couch. Mr. Evans took out his guitar. Everyone listened to him play. Mrs. Evans sang a few songs with him, while the three children sat on the floor. Mrs. Evans insisted Mercedes sit on the chair, so she wouldn't wrinkle her nice dress.

"Alright missy. Time to hear this amazing voice of yours," Mr. Evans said, after he finished his last song.

"Oh no no. I can't," Mercedes said, genuinely nervous. Dwight Evans may not have made it big as a country singer in Nashville, but he was definitely no fluke. He had a deep sultry tenor voice that was very romantic. Mercedes was intimidated to sing in front of him.

"Come on now. Sing!" he said. Mercedes hands shook. Sam noticed. Sam took her hand. "Don't be nervous. You'll be fine," he said, giving her his patented crooked smile.

"I don't know much country western," Mercedes told them embarrassed.

"It's alright Darlin. I can pick along to anything."

Mercedes sent a nervous glance towards Sam who squeezed her hand.

"Just close your eyes sweetheart and sing what comes to ya. It'll be fine," Mrs. Evans said warmly. Mercedes nodded, closing her eyes. She breathed in deeply and then sang out slowly.

"_Someday…When I'm awfully low,  
When the world is cold  
I will feel a glow just thinking Of You  
And the way you look.. Tonight"_

Dwight Evans winked at his wife and started playing along. He sang the next verse

_Yes you're lovely, with you smile so warm  
And your cheeks so soft,  
there is nothing for me but to love you,  
And the way you look tonight._

Mercedes: _With Each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart_

Dwight: _And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart_

Together: _Lovely… Never, ever change  
Keep that breathless charm  
Won't you please arrange it?  
Cause I love you…  
Just the way you look tonight. _

Mercedes opened her eyes. Everyone was applauding, except for Sam who just looked at her, his eyes stuck roaming between Mercedes' eyes and lips.

"Well you were right, Momma. Voice like an angel. Ain't that right Sam?" Mr. Evans said. Sam ignored him, still watching Mercedes, refusing to let go of her hand.

"Well look at the time!" Mrs. Evans said, catching the hint. "Time for bed."

Stevie, Stacie, and Mr. Evans growned, getting up from the floor. Mercedes snapped out of her dazed state, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's eight thirty already. I better go," she said, quickly getting up. Sam, reluctantly let go of Mercedes' hand, as she picked up her purse and coat.

Sam drove Mercedes to the bus stop. The two sat in his father's truck. That evening had been the quietest Mercedes had ever seen him.

"Sam. Can I ask you something?" Mercedes said.

"Anything," Sam said, thanking God she finally said something. That evening had been the quietest he had ever seen her.

"I didn't see a phone in your house. How were you able to call me?" Mercedes asked.

"Oh…" Sam said, not really expecting that question. "I ran to the Berry Drug store to use their pay phone."

"You got up early in the morning to run to the drug store just to call me?" Mercedes said.

"Well yeah-," Sam began.

Mercedes shut Sam's mouth with a kiss. Sam did not bother to question whether or not this was one of his dreams, and leaned in to the kiss, wrapping his hands around Mercedes' shoulders. Mercedes smiled into the kiss, lingering slightly before pulling away.

Sam continued to stare at Mercedes' lips after she pulled away. "Do you know…how long I've wanted to kiss you Mercedes?" Sam whispered.

"You're amazing Mr. Evans," Mercedes said, touching Sam's face. Sam shook his head in dazed disbelief.

"I'll never wash my lips again," Sam said.

A worried look slowly appeared on Mercedes' face, as she still held Sam's cheek in her hand. "What is it?" Sam asked.

"I'm just so… scared," Mercedes admitted, as the bus pulled up to the stop.

**T o be continued… **


	3. Chapter 3

**New Directions: Samcedes 1965 Lima, Ohio Part 3 **

Sam and his father jumped out of the truck. They waded through the sea of black students. Some were still rushing out of the burning school.

"Son, I don't see her!" Dwight Evans yelled, looking around at every student. Sam tried to think, but his heart was banging too heavily in his ears. "Mercedes! Where are you?" he yelled. Sam bent over. He was having a panic attack. 'She had told you she was scared, and you promised her nothing would ever happen,' Sam thought, his thoughts going back to two weeks prior. And now, Mercedes' school was a flame and she wasn't in the crowd. He had failed her.

Suddenly, someone's voice brought Sam back to reality. It was a white female with red hair. She was fighting with the fireman. Why did she seem so familiar to Sam?

"You have to go back in! My students!" she cried.

"Ma'am. I'm going to need you to settle down. We can't let anyone into the building," the fireman said, as other officers exited the front entrance. "That's everyone," one fireman said lazily, taking off his helmet.

"NO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. THEY HAVE THEIR MEETING IN THE BASEMENT. IT'S AN AFTER SCHOOL GROUP. THEY ARE STILL DOWN THERE. YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME!" the woman yelled.

The firemen ignored her, having no intentions of going back in. It hit Sam. The Student's Civil Right Organization met in the basement every Monday. He had stopped going after the first meeting. And now his girlfriend was still down there.

Sam darted through the crowd, ignoring the yells of his father and the firemen as he ran into the building.

They had been having their meeting in the basement when they started to smell the smoke. Mercedes went to the door and jiggled the handle. "It's locked," Mercedes said. The other ten members rushed to the door and started banging on it. "Who would lock us in?" Kurt said, picking up the globe from Ms. Pillsbury's desk and ramming it into the door window. Mercedes just shook her head, backing away. One of the new members that had joined from McKinley, Noah Puckerman, took the globe from Kurt and smashed the glass of the door. Kurt put his hand through to open the door from the other side, but the metal handle burned him. He backed away from it, screaming in pain. He looked up at Mercedes who had gone catatonic in the corner of the room.

She couldn't breathe. They were going to die. Someone had locked them in. It was all over.

"MERCEDES!"

The sound of Kurt's voice brought her back momentarily. She looked around. The other members of the group were calling out through the glass hole in the door for help. Kurt was lying on the ground, bleeding. Mercedes shook her head. "No, no. You're not going to die. Not like this Mercedes Jones" Mercedes said. She ripped the bottom of her dress, wrapping the fabric around her hand. She rushed to the door and stuck her hand through the glass, jiggling the door handle from the other side. She got the door open, letting in a lot of gray smoke.

"Run!" Mercedes told the others, as she rushed to Kurt, helping him up. "We're getting out of here, Kurt," she said. The others had already escaped into the hallway. Mercedes put her dress fabric over Kurt's mouth as she held her breath. They followed after the others, but were soon bested by the smoke.

"MERCEDES!" Sam yelled through the hallways. He saw Noah coming from the left wing, with seven others with him. "Noah! Where's Mercedes?" Sam said. "I lost them around the corner. Her and that Kurt guy," Noah said, coughing. Sam went around the corner, leaving Noah and the others. They came out of the front door. Two firemen grabbed him and the others.

"Wait a minute, there's white students down there?" the fireman said, looking at Noah Puckerman.

Sam had been breathing through Mercedes' handkerchief he always kept in his pocket. Every so often he would yell her name. Then he heard a voice reply.

"SAM?"

He knew that voice. "KURT?"

Sam turned the corner to find Kurt and Mercedes on the ground. Kurt was coughing into some fabric, while Mercedes was unconscious in his arms. "I was c-carrying her, but I," Kurt said through coughs, "Lost my breath."

Sam helped Kurt up, then picked up Mercedes. Kurt ran to the front doors, while Sam followed him. "Don't you die on me," Sam told Mercedes, his run slowly turning to a walk, as he breathed in the smoke. He was losing consciousness. When it seemed hopeless, he saw the light from the front entrance.

Ms. Pillsbury, wrapped a blanket around Kurt, as they stood with the other students in the crowd. The firemen, who were feeling the pressure from the angry crowd and the news team that had just arrived, were suiting up to go back in one more time.

"LOOK!" someone from the crowd yelled.

Sam came rushing out of the school, with Mercedes in his arms. The crowd burst in cheers, as they were the last people out. The firemen threw blankets on Sam, one of them attempting to take Mercedes from him. "No!" Sam barked through coughs, slightly hysterical, as they took her away. His father held him back, as the paramedics attempted to resuscitate Mercedes. "That's my girlfriend! What are they doing to her!" Sam said, through tears. "Shhh, they're just trying to make her breathe Sammy. It's alright," Mr. Evans said, rocking his son back and forth in his arms.

It wasn't alright, Sam thought. It was never going to be alright unless he could see her smile again and see her nose scrunch up in anger when Sam annoyed her. Until then, he would never be alright.

Then Sam heard it. The cough was loud and echoing in his ears. Mercedes eyes opened. She could hear someone calling her name. "We're going to have to move you Miss," the firefighter told her, helping her up. Over the man's shoulder, Mercedes spotted Sam as he was being dragged to the white side of the crowd by police officers and his father.

"Mercedes. MERCEDES!" he yelled. Mercedes laughed to herself. That boy was so crazy. She knew he would end up fighting the officers if he wasn't convinced she was okay. With the little strength she had, she lifted up her hand so Sam could see, giving him a soft smile, as they put her in the ambulance. Sam stopped struggling, a big smile appearing on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**New Directions: Samcedes 1965 Lima, Ohio Part 4**

Mercedes waited at the front porch of Kurt's house. Her big brother had dropped her off, before he left for college early morning.

"Kurt! I know you're in there! I see your car out front!" Mercedes said, knocking on the door. Mercedes rolled her eyes and took the house key from under the doormat. She let herself in. Kurt had the biggest house on his street. His father was an Ohio Congressman and owned the auto place that sold and repaired cars. Mercedes went to the kitchen and found Kurt, fully dressed and eating cereal. He spit it out when he saw Mercedes.

**Kurt: **What the hell! Did you break into my house?

**Mercedes:**Uh no! Your housekeeper leaves the key under the doormat

**Kurt**: Oh. Well you can exit the way you entered  
**  
Mercedes**: Kurt Hummel. You're coming to school with me!

**Kurt**: Mercedes, I swore on my life I would never enter that god forsaken school again, and I don't plan to.

**Mercedes**: Kurt

**Kurt**: You don't know those kids, Mercedes! Sam Evans is a strange exception. The rest of them are cruel and vicious. And I'm white! Just imagine what they'll do to your colored ass

**Mercedes:**My colored ass will be fine.

**Kurt:**If you were smart, you'd drop out right now.

**Mercedes: **Kurt! I know McKinley is bad. But we have NO OTHER SCHOOL. Roosevelt is gone. We can't just forget about our education because of a few short sighted people.

**Kurt**: The hell we can't!

**Mercedes**: Kurt. I've been as patient with you as I can. School starts in a few minutes. So you can either be a man and get up, or I will dunk that cereal bowl on your over privileged head and drag you out.

Kurt put his spoon down.

**Kurt**: You. Wouldn't. Dare.

Mercedes lunged at Kurt, causing him to jump out of his seat. "Fine!" Kurt said, picking up his coat.

"Good morning Evans family," Rachel Berry said as the Sam's family groaned in response. Rachel stood in their front entrance, as everybody was eating breakfast. "I was wondering if Samuel could give me a ride to school," Rachel told them. Sam looked over to his Dad, who reluctantly threw him his truck keys. Rachel looked around the house. "You know you really should invest in a phone Mrs. Evans. My father has some new ones in his store if you're interested. We even have a lay away plan," she said. "We're fine, Rachel," Mrs. Evans replied sweetly, kicking her husband under the table.

Sam and Rachel made to leave. "Hey, where's my kiss?" Mr. Evans asked. Sam rushed over and kissed his father and mother. "Tell that Philly of yours we said hello," Mr. Evans whispered to his son. "Alright Daddy. See ya," Sam said. Rachel was already sitting in the truck.

"Rachel, couldn't your dad have given you a ride to school?" Sam asked, as he made a right turn. "It's true, but my father, unlike yours, is employed and is very busy," Rachel said, dusting some lint off her green sweater.

"My dad works, Rachel," Sam said, wishing the truck went faster than sixty miles an hour.

**Rachel**: Samuel…Can you keep a secret?

**Sam**: No

**Rachel**: You have to promise not to tell

**Sam**: Then don't tell me!

**Rachel**: I'm going to run for homecoming queen

**Sam**: Good for you.

**Rachel**: I'm going to win.

**Sam**: I don't know. Quinn has the popular vote.

**Rachel**: But I have Finn Hudson

**Sam**: That's Quinn's beau

**Rachel**: Not since last Friday, when we necked under the bleachers

Sam stopped the truck.

**Sam**: YOU GOT HEAVY WITH FINN HUDSON?

**Rachel**: Yep. He even told me he loved me.

**Sam**: He's with Quinn! He loves her!

**Rachel**: Not for long, but you have to promise not to tell.

**Sam**: You know Quinn's my friend. I can't believe you did this. You don't even like Finn Hudson. You just want to be popular so bad.

**Rachel**: Sam! You can't tell her!

**Sam**: Oh I'm not going to tell her. You are.

**Rachel**: She'll kill me!

**Sam**: That's the least of what you deserve. Now get out of my truck

**Rachel**: But we are not even at school yet!

**Sam**: I know. We're at your house, so your own dad can give you a ride.

Rachel stepped out of the truck. Before she could even close the door, Sam sped off, the speed of the truck closing the door for him. "I hate you Samuel Evans!" Rachel called, coughing out the smoke the truck left behind...

"Hey Lady Face. I didn't think you'd actually show up," Santana said to Kurt. Santana Lopez was a SCRO (Student Civil Rights Organization) members and one of three-hundred and fifty Roosevelt students who had to transfer to McKinley High. She stood next to other Roosevelt students who were walking into the entrance. Mercedes and Kurt walked up to her. "She forced me to come," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. Santana gave Mercedes a high five before putting out her cigarette on the pavement.

"Alright. Let's do this," she said, fixing her dress. The three walked into the school.

At the front hallway was a banner welcoming the new students.

"Oh good grief. They spelled Roosevelt with a 'Z'," Kurt said.

"Hi!"

A Blonde girl rushed up to Kurt. She was wearing McKinley cheerleading outfit and high ponytail. She gave Kurt a dopey smile.

"I'm Brittany," said the girl.

"Hello," Kurt said, slightly disturbed by her friendliness.

"Do you like my banner? You're the lightest negro I've ever seen," Brittany said, touching his skin.  
Santana and Mercedes looked at each other and giggled.

"Brittany, get over here"

Brittany quickly rushed over to her friend's side. The girl who spoke was also in a McKinley cheerleader uniform and wore her hair in a high ponytail. However, her face wore a slightly colder look. "I know you. You're that girl from the newspaper," the cheerleader said, addressing Mercedes. Her voice was surprisingly smooth in texture though somewhat sinister.

Last week, a picture of Sam carrying Mercedes out of the burning high school circled around the Midwest, even landing on the desk of NAACP. Sam was even awarded the key to the city by the mayor, because the picture put Lima on the map of the country. But no one, except for Kurt and the other club members knew the whole story.

"Yeah, I am," Mercedes said.

"Sorry about your school," The girl said, after some thought. "Thanks," Mercedes replied.

"Some advice. Keep your head down. It's not a good idea to stand out around here. That goes double for your friend," the girl said, nodding towards Kurt who was sporting a purple sequence blazer. And with that she walked off, Brittany quickly following her.

"Who does she think she is?" Santana said. "That is Quinn Fabray. She's queen Bee at McKinley and can be a bitch if you get in her way," Kurt said, fixing his hair. Mercedes watched Quinn go down the hall. She didn't know why, but she felt that Quinn was more like Sam, and didn't necessarily hate people who were different - just people who got in her way.

The school bell rang. "I'll see you later," Mercedes told her friends before they went to their respective home rooms.

Mercedes found her first class easily enough. The history teacher, Mr. Schuester, introduced Mercedes and three two other new Roosevelt students to the class. Everyone gave a halfhearted hello, before they took their seats.

Mercedes took a seat next to a pretty Asian girl in the back, wearing a blue sweater and matching headband.

"Hi, I'm Tina," the girl whispered, holding out her hand. "Mercedes," Mercedes said, shaking her hand. "French. I like it," Tina said smiling. "I love your pencil case," Tina told her. Mercedes looked at her Wonder Woman themed pen set and laughed. "Yeah, my Sa- well my friend got it for me," Mercedes said. Mr. Schuester started his lesson. Tina put on her red-rimmed glasses, and started taking notes. "You're glasses are far out," Mercedes whispered, taking out her black-rimmed reading specs out of her pocket. "Not like mine."

Tina chuckled. "I think they look elegant on you," she told Mercedes as she put them on her face. Mercedes hated wearing her reading glasses, but luckily she only needed them when she sat in the very back of class. "No way, I look like a dweeb," Mercedes replied, pushing the specs up her nose, and writing the date on her notebook.

"It's better than looking like that guy," Tina said, gesturing to the geek two desks over who had his glasses were taped together and much too big for his freckled face. The two girls snickered at this then turn their attention back to Mr. Schuester.

Mercedes was lucky that she had already made a new friend so early in the day. She felt as if Tina Chang was her kindred spirit. They were both book worms by nature and both loved Bewitched and The Twilight Zone. They talked and giggled all through first period and Tina even showed Mercedes where her locker would be.

"So, you may like it here at McKinley. It all just depends where you will be classified," Tina said, as she and Mercedes walked down the hall.

**Mercedes**: Classified

**Tina**: Yeah.

**Mercedes**: How many "classifications" are there?

**Tina**: Well you got the cool kids, the jocks, the ashtrays, the squares, the beatniks, the geeks, the freaks, and the invisibles.

**Mercedes**: Who are the invisibles?

**Tina**: The kids who are completely ignored, which honestly isn't that bad. You'll never have to worry about getting a wedgie or the jocks stealing your clothes.

**Mercedes**: So, how would you classify say…Sam Evans?

**Tina**: Definitely cool. He's the only cool guy to say hello to me. Personally, I think he's the grooviest guy at McKinley though some would say Finn Hudson.

**Mercedes**: Who's that?

**Tina**: King of the football jocks. He's going steady with Quinn Fabray.

**Mercedes**: I met her.

**Tina**: She's the resident pop queen.

**Mercedes**: So what are you?

**Tina**: Invisible thank god. I've got the gpa of a geek, so I'm not sure how I managed it.

**Mercedes**: You'd definitely be a cool kid in my book.

**Tina**: I wonder what it would feel like to be a cool kid for just one week. I'd probably get tired of all the senior guys asking me out…Then again, I wouldn't

The two laughed. Mercedes opened her locker and put her books inside. "So, I'll see you at lunch?" Tina asked. "Great. See you then," Mercedes said as the bell rang.

This had to be the first time Sam Evans was ever truly happy to be at school. He felt bad for the students at Roosevelt who lost their school, but was ecstatic that it meant he would get to see his girlfriend every day. Well…Mercedes didn't know he had deemed her his girlfriend yet, but Sam had every intention of pinning her as his girl. Sam only waited because his mom convinced him it was best to wait till Mercedes told her parents about him.

First period football practice was long and annoying to Sam that morning. He sat on the bench with the other McKinley players as the coach held tryouts for the Roosevelt students. Puck took a seat next to him.

"You worried?" he asked, taking off his helmet.

"About what? Hey waterboy! What time is it?" Sam said, not really paying attention and eager to leave to find Mercedes.

The water boy pointed to clock above the stadium, before scurrying off.

"One of these guys taking your spot. Roosevelt has a lot of good players. We could be screwed," Puck said. "Naw, the more players we have, the better," Sam said.

"Man, you're never worried," Puck said, sipping his cup of water. The coach blew his whistle, ending morning practice. Sam jumped up and danced his way to the locker room, singing at the top of his lungs.

"I GOT STARLIGHT. I GOT SWEET DREAMS. I GOT MY GAL. WHO COULD ASK FOR ANYTHING MORE!" Sam sang as Puck followed him.

Sam walked through the hallways, saying hello to students who waved at him. He spotted Kurt at the end of the hallway, rushing up to him. "Hey, Kurt! How are ya?" Sam said, hugging Kurt. Others watched in curiosity. "How's school?" Sam asked. "Well I've already been shoved into three lockers and it's still morning," Kurt replied, fixing his hair. "Don't worry man," Sam told him, "You were there for my girl when she needed you the most, so I'll make sure no one pushes you around here."

"Hey Sam,"

Quinn and Finn had just walked up to Sam, who still had his arm around Kurt.

"You two know each other?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah! Me and Kurt were in SCRO together. Swear down, this kid is the hippest guy you will ever meet. And his threads are so Rock n' Roll. He gets all the babes, like Mick Jagger. I'm tellin you Kurt, you gotta teach me your ways one day," Sam said.

"Uhh sure," Kurt said, playing along.

"Kurt, why don't you sit with us at lunch?" Finn said. "Really? I mean cool," Kurt said, following Finn and Quinn to his next class. Sam gave Kurt quick thumbs up before going to his next class.

Halfway through second period Mercedes had been called into the vice principal's office. Mercedes wasn't worried, since she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, so it must be something else. But the tone of the vice principal suggested otherwise.

"Sit down, Jones," Vice Principal Sylvester said.

Mercedes took a seat opposite of the woman's desk. Mrs. Sylvester looked through her file.

"It says here that you were part of a peer tutoring program at Roosevelt, were you not?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," Mercedes said, still unsure of why she was there.

Vice Principal Sylvester took off her glasses. "We have someone for you to tutor. A cripple boy named Arthur Abrams," she said, handing Mercedes his file.

Mercedes read it. "Wait, this says he scored in the 90th percentile in math and reading. He doesn't need my help," Mercedes told Mrs. Sylvester.

"Yes he does. Our school is not equipped for his wheelchair, and most of his required classes are upstairs. That's why we need you to bring his work to him and go over it with him," Sylvester admitted.

"Wait…So when you say teach him what you really mean is serve him," Mercedes said, disliking the idea even more.

"Look. I'm going to be honest with you. The kid is a pain in the ass. He's had seven tutors before you, and they all quit. This is a tough year for McKinley. We have four hundred new students, and no budget to make this building more "cripple friendly". So, you are my last option. The pay is two-fifty an hour and its ten hours a week. Take it or leave it," said Mrs. Sylvester.

"Deal," Mercedes said, shaking Mrs. Sylvester's hand. Truth be told, she didn't even get paid half that amount for tutoring at Roosevelt, so she couldn't care less if the kid was annoying.

"Here's the room number and his classroom assignments. Good luck Miss Jones," Mrs. Sylvester said, handing her a stack of assignments.

Mercedes opened room 104. It was an old choir room that looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Near the far corner, sitting in front of a piano, sat a Arthur Abrams. Mercedes didn't know why, but he didn't look at all like she expected. Yes, his clothes did remind her of a band geek, but his physical features suggested otherwise. He had dark brown hair with bangs that swooped across his elegant face. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms that he probably acquired from using his chair. His eyes were dark blue and very intense as he played a few random notes a on the piano.

"Hi, are you Arthur?"

"It's Artie. No one calls me Arthur," the boy said, not turning to look at Mercedes. Artie's voice was surprisingly stern, almost intimidating to Mercedes. Mercedes gave little cough, clearing out her nerves.

"Okay Artie, well I'm Mercedes. I'll be your peer tutor for this semester," Mercedes said.

The boy turned his head to look at her. He started at her feet, working his blue eyes up to her chest then finally to her face. A small smile appeared on his face that was followed by a scoff and head shake.

"Boy is the school running out of options," he said.

Mercedes opened her mouth to say something, but remembered Mrs. Sylvester's words. Artie didn't want a tutor and was trying to get a rise out of her. She needed to keep calm. Artie still kept his judgmental glare on Mercedes.

"You look familiar. You're that negro from the newspaper. The one that dumb quarterback saved," Artie said.

Mercedes gave Artie an identical smirk to his own. "That dumb quarterback's name is Sam, and yes, he did save my life," Mercedes replied. Artie smiled. Though Mercedes tried to sound un-phased by the Artie's comment, he took notice in her change of tone, and decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

"Oh, SAM is it? You two are on a first name basis are you. You must like SAM a lot, huh, Mercedes," Artie said.

"We're friends," Mercedes told him. Artie shook his head.

"No you're not. Trust me. Sam Evans is "friends" with everyone. He thinks he's God's gift to McKinley, waving and high fiving everyone like his hand shake will cure cancer. Truth be told, he's never gotten to know any of us mere mortals past a smile and a nod. You think you guys are friends now? See if he lets you sit next to him at lunch, or talk to his friends. You'll see how close your actual friendship is," Artie said.

Mercedes didn't notice halfway through Artie's slam, her hands started to shake in anger.

"Did I hit a nerve?" he asked. "I mean you didn't actually think he was keen on you did you? Aww you did. Are you going to cry now?"

Mercedes held her breath, realizing her eyes were starting to fill with hot tears.

"Don't worry, you'll be much happier when you become invisible at this school," Artie told her, as she wiped under one eye.

Mercedes couldn't stand to be in Artie's presence for one more minute. "Here's your work for today," she mustered to say, putting the papers on top of the piano, before walking out of the classroom. She entered the nearest girls bathroom. She washed her face with cool water. "Don't let him get to you," Mercedes told herself, but it was too late. The word 'stuipid' kept reappearing in Mercedes' head as she looked into the mirror. Though she would never admit it out loud, she knew she was in love with Sam Evans. And that she secretly hoped he'd ask her to go steady. But was that his real intention? Or was he just obsessed with the chase. The notion wasn't obsurd to Mercedes. Shane started out just as sweet and persistent as Sam. He brought flowers, held books, wrote poems, the works. Then when they started dating, it all just stopped. He stopped calling and stopped caring. Mercedes could not even be considered his trophy girlfriend. She was more his closet girlfriend. Its like once Shane got what he wanted there was no point in forming an actual relationship with her. Mercedes fell for this trap once. No matter how she felt about Sam, she could not do it again.

The bell rang, starting the lunch period. Mercedes came out of the restroom, heading towards her locker. Suddenly her vision was cast in darkness by two hands covering her eyes. "Guess who," she heard Sam whisper. He heart skipped at the presence of its mate, but she ignored it, moving Sam's hands away from her eyes. She turned to face him. He was wearing the same lopsided smile he always wore when he thought he was being clever.

"Hi, beautiful, How was you first day?" Sam asked, moving one of Mercedes curls out of her face. He looked into her eyes waiting for an answer. Mercedes looked down. "It was fine, Sam," she replied softly. "Hey, I was thinking we should play hooky for lunch. The weather's great outside. We could eat on the bleachers," Sam suggested.

Mercedes shook her head.

"Why?"

Sam wasn't really expecting this question.

"Umm, it's like I said. It's gorgeous outside, and I don't really want to share you with anyone else today," Sam replied.

Mercedes scoffed.

"Are you sure it's not because you don't want to introduce me to your friends?" she asked.

Sam scratched the back of his head.

"No," Sam said.

Mercedes huffed, a sad smile appearing on her face.

"You're lying, Sam" she said.

Sam could detect Mercedes was mad at him, though he wasn't sure what it was about.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" he asked.

"Don't change the subject," Mercedes said.

"I wasn't aware that I was," Sam replied honestly.

"You don't want me to eat in the cafeteria with your friends. Be honest, Samuel" Mercedes told him.

Sam shook his head.

"…Yeah, but it's not what you think. Rachel and Quinn-" Sam began, but Mercedes had heard enough. She knew where this was going.

"You're such a hypocrite," Mercedes said. "You want me to have faith in us, but you want to hide me from the world like I'm some embarrassing secret."

"WHAT? No, that's not true. I just didn't want us to sit by my friends today because – Mercedes! Where are you going?"

Mercedes had walked away from Sam into the cafeteria. She took a seat by Tina.

Sam stood by himself in the hallway in disbelief. There was no way he could have predicted his reunion with Mercedes would have gone that badly. Earlier that day, after Sam had kicked Rachel out of his dad's truck, he had determined she would no doubt make a scene at lunch, embarrassing him and causing a catfight between her and Quinn over Finn. That was the last thing he wanted Mercedes to see. He knew Rachel might have cooled off the next day, and they could all sit together tomorrow. So, all Sam had to do was convince Mercedes to skip lunch with him once and everything would be fine. But, it didn't work out that way. How could she think she was an embarrassment to him? If anything, he had more to be ashamed of…

Mercedes stamped the books near the front of the library. Some of them she may have stamped more than once, but she didn't want to stop the comforting rhythm of hitting the books and closing the cover. Open and shut. Quick and easy. 'Just forget him, Jones,' she mumbled to herself, moving to a new stack. She kept reminding herself that a half-ass relationship was no relationship. Sam Evans was cute, but he wasn't that cute.

"Can we talk?"

Mercedes looked up to see Sam standing in front of her.

"Go away, Sam," Mercedes said, turning her eyes away from him, continuing to stamp her books.

"Please MJ," Sam said, taking Mercedes' hand. Mercedes looked at her hand in his. For the first time, she notices the burn marks and bruises on Sam's hand. Mercedes look at him. "Kay," she says, following him to an empty table. Sam pulls out her chair then takes a seat opposite of her. He clears his throat. Mercedes can tell he's nervous.

"Look, Mercedes. I've never liked a girl as much as I like you. You're smart, and funny, and when you're not cursing me out, you can be pretty sweet," Sam said.

Mercedes chuckled. Damn him for making her laugh.

"You work on me like a tonic. I want to see you smile and hear you laugh all the time. It's just my friends can be idiots sometimes, and I was afraid you'd meet them today, get annoyed, and not want to talk to me anymore," Sam said.

"That's ridiculous, Sam," Mercedes said.

"Is it? I mean do you even want to be with me?" Sam asked.

It was weird for Mercedes to see Sam show his insecurity.

She looked around first, before taking Sam's hand in hers. "You're the weirdest boy I've ever met Sam Evans. I don't care if your friends have tea with the Klan on Thursdays. Bring it on. I'm not going anywhere," Mercedes told Sam. Sam smiled touching Mercedes face. He leaned in to kiss her, but Mercedes stopped him. "We are in a library, Sam," she said. "Oh yeah," Sam said. The two stood, walking to the front of the library.

"So does that mean you're going to tell your parents about me now?" Sam asked.

"Uhh not yet," Mercedes said.

"You're more afraid of your daddy than the Klan?" Sam said, gulping at the thought of Mercedes' father chasing him with a shotgun. "MJ, MJ! How big is your daddy?" Sam whispered. Mercedes laughed, shaking her head.

"Good morning, Arthur," Mercedes said, putting Artie's work down on the table. "You ready to look over your work today?" she asked.

Artie was surprised to see that the negro girl was back. She was tougher than he thought.

"You're back. The pay must be good," Artie said, taking out his glasses from his from pocket and putting them on. "It is," Mercedes said, taking a seat next to him. "Let's look at English first," Mercedes told him.

"What's your deal? Did your "friend" actually talk to you yesterday?" Artie asked. Mercedes ignored him. "How about a little Shakespeare? Romeo and Juliet?" she asked, holding up the book. Artie smirked. "Speaking of tragedies," Artie said.

Mercedes chuckled, taking off her earrings.

"Let's get something straight, ARTIE Abrams. I'm not going to pretend to be someone I'm not. Truth be told I'm not the nicest person in the world. In fact, I can be very nasty when I'm mad. Ask MY FRIEND Sam Evans. So you can be rude all you want to me, but just know that this negro has no problem smacking the shit out of a kid in a wheelchair."

Artie sat dumbfound across from the first person who ever told him off. Mercedes waited for him to respond. When he stayed silent, she smirked and took out her reading glasses that were identical to Artie's. "Alright. Romeo and Juliet. I'll read first," Mercedes said. She started to read out loud. Artie couldn't understand why at the time, but it seemed much hotter in the room than it did a few minutes ago.

"Hey guys. This is Mercedes," Sam said, pulling out a chair for Mercedes as she took a seat at their caf table.

"Mercedes, this is Quinn, Finn, you know Noah, Mike, Brittany, and of course you know Kurt," said Sam. Mercedes gave Kurt a quick wink before scooting down to give Sam room.

"Kurt was just showing us how to get the swoop in his hair," Finn said.

Mercedes wasn't sure when Kurt became a cool kid but thought accurately it probably had something to do with Sam.

"Oh God, here comes Rachel," Quinn said. "Why do we let her sit with us again?"

"Because her dad owns the drugstore and she can get us free cigarettes," Puck said, right before Rachel took a seat next to Finn who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Hello everyone… Samuel," Rachel added, giving Sam a stink eye, before opening her lunch box.

Mercedes laughed to herself at the odd bunch. Except for their complexion, none of these people were alike. Mike Chang started cutting up Brittany's food in her plate. Everyone was eating their lunch, except Sam.

"Where's your lunch Evans?" Finn asked.

"Oh umm, I had a big breakfast, so I'm not hungry," Sam said, scratching the back of his head.

"Clearly, his parents couldn't give him any lunch money today," Rachel said.

"No one asked you, Berry," Quinn said.

"Actually, Sam knew I was making my famous meat loaf today and I packed his lunch with mine," Mercedes said, taking out her lunch container. "And of course, I brought an extra slice of apple pie just in case," she added. Sam held her hand under the table.

"Aw I want apple pie too," Brittany said.

Quinn, who was the only friend, besides Rachel, who knew about Sam's family, gave a quick smile to Mercedes before she continued eating.

"So, have you guys seen that Santana girl? She's a babe," Puck said, high fiving Mike Chang. Rachel and Quinn rolled their eyes.

"I could introduce you two if you want," Mercedes said. She knew Puck was a player, but after what he did in the fire, she knew he couldn't be all bad.

"Alright! Cool points to the new chick," Puck said, holding up his hand.

"Ugh no calling my girl chick, Puck," Sam said

"Woah, since when is she YOUR girl?" Puck asked.

"Yeah, since when am I your girl?" repeated Mercedes, turning to Sam.

"OOOhhh, you got dissed Sam. You gotta lay me some skin for that MJ," Puck said. Mercedes high fived him as the table laughed.

Mercedes smiled to herself as Sam walked her to her locker.

"So, this Saturday. Me, you and the gang ?" Sam asked.

"Sounds cool," Mercedes said, hugging her journals to her chest.

Sam bit his lip.

"Cool," he said.

Sam left for class as Mercedes opened her locker. A note fell out onto the floor. She picked it up and read it.

**BURN BITCH**

She quickly looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was looking. Her heartbeat drowned out all the other sounds in the hallway. Artie was right. Because at that moment, more than anything, Mercedes wished she was invisible.


	5. Chapter 5

**New Directions: Samcedes 1965 Lima, Ohio Part 5  
**

**(MESSAGE: I want to thank everyone for the lovely reviews. You readers make writing this fic worth while and I can't wait to share more with you!)**

"I don't get it. Shouldn't the Nazis be dancing?" Brittany asked, holding the arm of Kurt at the drive-in.

"Nazis don't dance in this one, Britt," Kurt said, eating his popcorn.

It was Saturday night and everyone was at the drive in to watch the new film _the Sound of Music_.

"Are you crying?" Sam asked Mercedes. "What? No," Mercedes replied wiping under her eye. "Liar," Sam said, handing her a handkerchief to blow her nose. "At least I'm not balling like Noah," Mercedes said, looking over into the next vehicle where Puck and her friend, Santana, were. Santana rolled her eyes as Puck cried gently into her shoulder. Sam and Mercedes laughed. "Yeah, these kinds of movies get to him," said Sam. "I'm going to the lavatory," Mercedes said. "What?" said Sam, who had already got comfortable with Mercedes' head resting in his chest with his arm around her. "It won't be long," Mercedes said, opening the door. Sam pouted, reluctantly letting go of Mercedes' hand.

After finishing going to the restroom, Mercedes went to the front entrance of the drive in to buy some snacks. M&Ms were Sam's favorite and they could share the box. She could hear someone laughing behind her, then cat calling.

She looked over her shoulder. It was a group of boys. Some of them had on McKinley sweaters. The ring leader, who was taller and bigger than all the rest, winked at Mercedes, puckering his lips. Mercedes turned back around. She gave the vendor her money.

"Hey Sweets! Colored girl! I'm talkin to you!" the boy yelled as his friends laughed.

Mercedes took her candy from the vendor and walked away. She took the long way back to the truck, so to make sure those guys wouldn't follow her.

Mercedes ended up in the woodsy brushes behind the big screen that was playing the movie. Some kids were smoking behind there; others were making out. Mercedes was surprised to see Sam's friend Finn with Rachel. He had his hand on her butt as she stuck her tongue down his throat. It took a lot of strength for Mercedes not to upchuck at the sight of them. She quickly hurried back to the truck, before they could see her.

"There you are. I was about to go looking for you. What's wrong?" Sam said, as Mercedes shook her head as she got back into her seat next to Sam.

"I just saw Finn sucking the lips off Rachel," Mercedes said.

"Really, wow" Sam said, scratching the back of his neck.

"…Wait. Did you know about the two of them?" Mercedes asked. Sam didn't answer, his neck getting itchier by the second.

"Sam!"

"Shh," Sam said, covering Mercedes's mouth. Mercedes batted his hand away. "You knew and you didn't tell Quinn?" Mercedes said in disbelief.

"It's not my place to tell," Sam said. "Oh my Gosh, Sam. Quinn is two cars down, sitting alone, while her boyfriend is necking some other girl. She needs to know! I thought you two were friends!" Mercedes said.

"We are, but…there's a guy code" Sam began, but Mercedes wasn't hearing it.

"GUY CODE? You'd keep a secret from one of your closest friends because of a guy code?"

It was this same guy code that kept Mercedes from ever figuring out if Shane was messing around with other girls. She always had her suspicions, but none of his friends would ever confirm it. "Can we just watch the movie?" Sam asked, leaning back in his car seat as if this would end the discussion. Mercedes moved out of the way. "Sure," she said, opening the car door, "But you can watch it with your 'guys.'"

Mercedes went over to Santana and Puck's car, where Santana was nudging Puck in the ribs every time he tried to kiss her. "Puck switch with me," Mercedes said. "What? No way," Puck said. "Do it!" Santana barked. Puck got up and went into the truck with Sam as Mercedes took the seat next to Santana, who put her arm around Mercedes and starting eating the M&Ms.

"What. The. Hell. Did. You. Say," Puck said, slamming the door closed, moving into the seat next to Sam.

"Nothing!" Sam said.

"Yeah, well your 'nothing' just lost me my date," Puck said, munching angrily on his popcorn.

"Shut up," Sam said, snatching the popcorn from Puck, taking a handful for himself.

* * *

"Are you even paying attention, Artie?" Mercedes asked.

Mercedes had caught Artie staring at her for the second time.

"Sorry. This is boring," Artie said, closing his book.

"Only you would think Edgar Allen Poe is boring," said a smirking Mercedes, tossing a pencil at Artie.

"It's true! All he talks about is creaky stairs and spooky shadows," Artie said, tossing the pencil back.

"Well that shows how much you haven't been paying attention," Mercedes replied.

Artie: I am paying attention. It's just ridiculous. A guy being overtaken by the sound of dead man's heart? Come on

Mercedes: Sometimes a man's guilty conscience can drive him insane.

Artie: Men who chop people up and hide them under the floor boards don't have guilty consciences.

Mercedes: You know you're just about the most pessimistic person I have ever met Artie Abrams

Artie: Hmm I wonder why that is. Oh yeah, I can't walk.

Mercedes: There are worse things in life, you know.

Artie: Like no one ever wanting to talk to you

Mercedes: That's probably cause you're a jerk. I mean you don't like ANYTHING Artie

Artie: I like you.

Mercedes smiled at Artie.

Mercedes: I like you too.

Artie: {skeptically} Really

Mercedes: Yeah. You're not as cold as you pretend to be. Plus you have a nice face

Artie: Oh! So you just like me for my looks then!

Mercedes: Yep. Sorry, but your personality is rotten.

Artie: You're not my type anyway.

Artie smiled to himself as Mercedes stifled her chuckling and packed her stuff up to leave. The bell rang. "Mercedes!" Artie said, right before she opened the door. "Tomorrow, can we go over my trig test?" Artie asked. Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Artie, you got an A on that test," she said. "Uh, don't you get paid by the hour or something?" Artie said, making Mercedes roll her eyes even harder. "Alright! Goodbye Artie," Mercedes said exasperatingly, closing the door behind her.

Artie was a serious smart-ass, but Mercedes had to admit he was growing on her. Tutoring him was the least of her worries now. The first football game since the Roosevelt fire was coming in two weeks. Tensions already started to run high in the school over the white players who lost their spots and the black students who replaced them after tryouts. Angry parents called saying the Roosevelt students should not be allowed to join the team so late into the season, while the parents of the Roosevelt students were in uproar over the fact that the police had closed the case on the school fire, determining it was natural causes. Now the whole town would bear witness to the chaos on the opening game.

The only relief Mercedes got from this week was no new notes had appeared in her locker, which she hoped meant the culprit's only purpose was to pull an insensitive prank.

Sam was already in front of Mercedes' locker when she arrived there to switch books.

"I'm sorry," they both said in unison.

A confused look appeared on Sam's face.

Sam: What're you sorry for? I'm the jerk

Mercedes: No, I am. You and Finn are friends and I shouldn't have made you feel bad about keeping his secrets even if they are terrible.

Sam: No, you were right. Guy code or not. When Stacey gets old enough and starts talking to boys, I would hope she would make friends who would be decent enough to tell her if she's dating a two-timer.

Mercedes: You talked to your mom didn't you

Sam: Yeah. I keep forgetting Stacy is a girl. Not that I'll have to worry about her dating as long as she keeps biting people.

Mercedes: {chuckling} I'm glad we could settle this.

Sam: Me too. I hated not hearing your voice all those days

Mercedes: It was one day, Sam

Sam: Don't remind me. I'll never get those twenty-four hours back

Mercedes: You're crazy

Sam: Crazy about you.

Mercedes smiled, as Sam walked her to her next class.

Mercedes: So, how's football practice going?

Sam: Not too good. I really don't know if we can take to the field without killing each other.

Mercedes: That bad?

Sam: Half the team is boycotting thanks to Karofsky and his boys.

Mercedes: Who's Karofsky?

Sam: This psychopath with a brain the size of a walnut and the fist the size of a bear's claw

Mercedes: This is probably the first time I've ever heard you say something bad about a person

Sam: A person had a conscience. This guy is like a monster in a boy costume. If you ever see him, just head in the opposite direction as fast as possible. Promise?

Mercedes: Sure

The bell rang. "See you at lunch," Sam said, giving Mercedes' hand a squeeze before leaving for his class. It wasn't till Mercedes took a seat in her Anatomy class that she realized she forgot to ask Sam what this Karofsky boy looked like.

"Attention students, Mr. Schuester would like to say a few words before the start of our lesson," Mrs. Montgomery said, taking her seat as Mr. Schuester stood at the front of the class. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Hello everyone, some of you I have in my Early American history class," he began. "Well, today I would like to talk to you about music."

Most of the students had already tuned out the young history teacher, but he had said the one word that would catch Mercedes Jones' attention. "Music is the one thing that binds us all. It speaks what cannot be expressed. The music program died a long time ago at McKinley, and with it, we lost the ability to express what's deep in our souls, we lost the means to communicate with each other. Instead of the sounds of scuffing shoes and heated arguments, let's fill the halls of McKinley with the sound of music! I come to you today to ask you to join the school chorus. We will perform multiple genres of music and have fun doing it."

Despite his dripping enthusiasm, Mr. Schuester's heartfelt speech had put most of the students to sleep. Though somewhat down trodden at the lack of eagerness from the students, Mr. Schuester held his head high, determined to finish what he had come to do. "Well, if anyone of you are interested, I'll leave the information about it here on Mrs. Montgomery's desk. Rehearsals begin Wednesday afterschool. Our first performance will be at the pep rally before the big game. Thank you for your time."

Mrs. Montgomery thanked Mr. Schuester for coming in as two to three students gave a few half-hearted claps. After class Mercedes was the only student to pick up the flyer Mr. Schuester left behind.

* * *

"What's a show choir?" Kurt asked, as Mercedes handed him the flyer.

"It's a choir that dances and sings," Mercedes said, who got more and more excited about the idea. "What kind of music?" Kurt asked. "Any kind I'm sure," Mercedes replied, "Basically whatever is in a singer's repertoire."

"What are you guys looking at?" Sam asked, as he arrived with Puck, Finn, and Mike. Sam squeezed himself between Kurt and Mercedes, while Finn, Puck, and Mike sat across from them.

"Nothing that would interest you guys," Mercedes said. "Not unless babes are involved," Puck said, stopping a nerd and taking his paper bag lunch.

"Puck, give that back now," Quinn said, as she took a seat at the table. "Fine, your highness, I have two lunches anyway," he said, handing back the lunch to the quivering nerd.

"I don't know Mercedes. It sounds risky," Kurt said, over Sam's shoulder. "Please Kurt, I feel like this could help change things around here."

"What could?" Mike asked.

"A show choir club," Mercedes said. "Kurt has a great singing voice. I want him to join with me."

"Sounds like social suicide," Quinn said dryly, taking out her sandwich. "I have to agree," Kurt said. Mercedes sat crestfallen, leaning her head on her hand in despair.

"This show choir thing means a lot to you?" Sam asked. Mercedes sighed. "It's okay. I…I just had a feeling it might be have been something special. Something to bring the school together," she said. "Forget it."

In what seemed like a split second, Sam Evans was on his feet. He snapped his fingers slowly. "Sam what're you-" Mercedes began to say before she was cut off by something she didn't expect to hear.

_I got Sunshine__  
__On a cloudy day__  
__When it's cold outside__  
__I got the month of May_

Mercedes sat dumbstruck at smooth sound of Sam's voice. Sam winked at Puck who began humming a baritone. The cafeteria got steadily quieter as everyone paid attention to what was going on.

_I guess you say__  
__What can make me feel this way?__  
__My girl_

Mike came in with a tight bass as Finn took the high tenor above Sam as he continued to sing. The girls squealed when Sam hopped onto the top of the cafeteria table so everyone could see. Puck, Mike, and Finn joined him on the table with backing 'oohs and ahhs.'

Sam jumped down on the chair, taking Mercedes' hand as the other guys swayed and snapped in their best Temps impersonation.

_**Sam:**__I don't need no money!__  
__Fortune or fame__  
__I got all the riches baby__  
__One man can claim. Well!_

_**Finn, Mike and Puck:**__ I guess you say__  
__What can make me feel this way?_

Sam bent down, kissing Mercedes' hand. "Mmmyyy girl," he sang softly. The whole cafeteria cheered as the lunch staff told them to settle down and tells the boys to get off the table. Sam smiled, taking his seat next to Mercedes as the crowd settled. "Well that should get you some recruits for your club," he said, taking a sip of his milk. Mercedes, who had temporarily lost all form of speech, smacked Sam on the arm.

"Hey! What was that for?" Sam said, rubbing his arm.

"Sam Evans, you didn't tell me you could sing!" Mercedes exclaimed.

"You never asked!" Sam said smiling, as he dodged more hits from Mercedes. "You-you" Mercedes stammered as Sam eyed her seductively, the smile on his face growing.

"That's it. You got her now Evans," Puck said, clapping Sam on the back as Mercedes's cheeks went red in embarrassment.

"That was a satisfactory performance, Samuel," Rachel said, arriving at the table, taking a seat next to Puck, who begrudgingly scooted over. "And Finn you were just amazing, as always," she continued. The happy mood at the table became much colder, as Finn smiled awkwardly at Rachel's comment, and Sam quickly made to change the subject before things got ugly. Mercedes felt her conscience gnawing at her insides, as she watched Quinn take Finn's hand in her's.

"Where are my clothes?" Mercedes asked. After P.E., Mercedes clothes disappeared from her cubby. A few girls in the locker room giggled as they changed out of their gym clothes. Mercedes stood in her underwear, holding her arms across her chest to cover herself. "You heard me!" Mercedes yelled. "Cows don't wear clothes," one red head girl muttured, as other students laughed. "What'd you say?" Mercedes said shoving her. "Don't touch me whore! You think just because Sam Evans sang you a song doesn't mean you're not loser just like the rest of you Roosevelt rejects!" the girl said, lunging at Mercedes who grabbed a handful of the girl's hair.

"HEY! BREAK IT UP!"

Vice Principal Sylvester, who was also the basketball and cheer coach, split the two girls up. "Samantha Sims, in my office now!" Sylvester barked. The red head girl picked up her stuff and went to the office. "The rest of you get changed. Quietly!" Sylvester said, before leaving. All the girls picked up the bags and started heading out. "Check the shower for your clothes," one of the McKinley girls said to Mercedes, before passing her. Mercedes walked over to the showers and sure enough her clothes were in a wet pile…

Mercedes arrived at her last class fifteen minutes late. Mrs. Sylvester lent her some McKinley sweats to wear. She had her hair up in a ponytail. Mercedes handed her teacher the tardy pass and took her seat near Tina, who she shared two classes with.

"You wouldn't believe what happened to me," Mercedes whispered to her, taking out her Trig notes.

"Oh, believe me I know. Everyone in the cafeteria does too," Tina said her voice sounding more snarky than usual.

Mercedes: You okay?

Tina: Fine thank you.

Mercedes: Fine then

Tina: I thought we were friends

Mercedes: We are friends Tina

Tina: Well, you could have told me that you were going steady with Sam Evans instead of letting me go on about him like some airhead school girl.

Mercedes: I asked you about him once. And we aren't going steady.

Tina: But you like him!

Mercedes: Yes I do, but I was never trying to hide that.

Tina: Still, you could have told me. You didn't have to make every girl in the school look like an idiot when he was serenading you for all to see.

Mercedes: I didn't tell him to do that. He thought it would get other people to join the school chorus.

Tina: No one is going to join that chorus. Sam Evans may be cool, but he basically signed your outcast papers the moment he jumped on that table and sang to you.

Mercedes: You don't know that.

Tina: It's true. Everyone is saying you shouldn't be with him.

Mercedes: Well… what're you saying?

"Ladies, eyes up front," the Trig teacher said. Tina brought her attention back to the lesson, leaving Mercedes to her thoughts.

* * *

Mercedes was happy when the last school bell rang and she could leave the classroom. This day was much too long for her liking. As Mercedes walked to her locker, she noticed more eyes were on her than usual, though it could have been due to the gray sweats she had on. She opened her locker. A note fell out. Her heart stopped. She looked around before picking it up.

SAM EVANS WON'T BE THERE NEXT TIME TO SAVE YOU

"What's that?"

Mercedes jumped only to find Kurt behind her. She held her heart. "You scared me," she said, chuckling. "It's nothing," Mercedes said, quickly tossing the note in her locker, before closing it. Kurt looked her up and down. "What on earth are you wearing Mercedes?" Kurt asked. "Oh, umm. My clothes got wet in gym," Mercedes said, still behaving a little shaky.

"Are you alright?" Kurt asked. "Of course," Mercedes replied, nodding.

"Hey, you can't walk me to the bus stop?" Mercedes asked as Kurt started to leave.

Kurt: Nope. I'm trying out for the team

Mercedes: the football team?

Kurt: Yep. Extra slots have opened up after the boycott

Mercedes: Kurt… you don't even play. You said football was barbaric

Kurt: Well, now I think it's cool.

Mercedes: What's going on with you Kurt?

Kurt: What do you mean?

Mercedes: First you start hanging out with the jocks. And then you take that cheerleader Brittany as your date to the movies. Now you wanna join the football team?

Kurt: So I can't make new friends, and talk to other girls? Maybe I like Brittany

Mercedes: We both know that's not true.

Kurt: How the hell would you know! You're just jealous because you're not my only friend anymore.

Mercedes: I know you're afraid, Kurt, but pretending to be someone else isn't going to make your problems go away

Kurt: Oh and joining a stupid show choir is just going to solve everything!

Mercedes: You love to sing! I was just trying to help you!

Kurt: Helping me by making me a target! I'm the cool kid now!

Mercedes: You're not Sam Evans okay! You're not Finn or Noah… And I'm sorry but…you never will be.

Mercedes knew what she said was harsh, but she felt her friend needed to hear it. Kurt exhaled, attempting to slow down the fast beating of his heart.

"Look," Kurt began calmly, "…I'm scared Mercedes… It may not be right, but I have to fit in... Or they will kill me."

* * *

Mercedes sat at the bus stop. She felt sick to her stomach. The last thing she had wanted to do was fight with Kurt. All she had really wanted was him to stay with her after school. She regretted not telling him about the note. She and Kurt were in the same boat. Except Kurt's secret was still hidden, while Mercedes' was on display for everyone to know.

Mercedes' train of thought was suddenly interrupted by group of loud boys across the street. She recognized them from the last Saturday when she went to the drive in movie with Sam. Any other day, she would have ignored them, but something stuck out to her. It was their letterman jackets. 'Letterman jackets,' she thought, 'means they play for the football team.' Why was this odd to her? "Wait, isn't football practice now? Why aren't they there?" Mercedes muttered to herself. She could not figure out why that meant something to her. But her brain wouldn't let it go. Then she remembered what Sam had said earlier that day.

_"Half the team is boycotting thanks to Karofsky and his boys. He's this Psychopath…"_

Mercedes checked the clock above the lamppost. The bus was late. Of all the days. "Just wait Mercedes. It'll come," she told herself assuredly.

"HEY! MY GIRL!" Karofsky yelled from across the street.

Mercedes stomach lurched in fear. She looked down the street. The bus was nowhere in sight. She got up and started to walk. She kept her eyes on the ground, putting one foot in front of the other. "Just keep walking, Mercedes. Don't look at them," she muttered. But after a while, Mercedes glanced over her shoulder. They were following her. She walked a little faster.

"WHERE YOU GOING MY GIRL?"

Mercedes started to panic on the inside as the boys started to catch up to her, their voices growing louder. If Mercedes was walking any faster, she'd have been running.

"HEY! I KNOW YOU HEAR ME TALKING TO YOU!"

Mercedes cut through the park. She had been walking along, but she was full out running now. She looked behind her and the boys were chasing her. They divided themselves so as to attempt to surround her. They had smiles on their faces. Was this funny to them? Mercedes thought. She had made it to the other street. She stopped running. If Karofsky and his boys were going to attack her, she wanted there to be witnesses.

"You're fast but not fast enough my girl," Karofsky said, as he took a step to cross the street after Mercedes. But a red car almost hit him, as it stopped in the middle of the road. The car owner rolled down the window, revealing a sinister blonde girl wearing sun glasses.

"Mercedes, get in," Quinn said sternly. Not even thinking twice, Mercedes got in the passenger seat of the car, closing the door behind her. Quinn rolled up her window and drove off, leaving the boys in the dust her sports car made.

"Here," Quinn said, passing Mercedes her handkerchief. "Don't ever let them see you cry," Quinn told her, keeping her eyes on the road. "Thanks," Mercedes said, wiping under her eyes. Her pulse was still going super-fast, as Quinn made a left turn. "How did you know?" Mercedes asked. "I saw them chase you across the park. I was already in my car, so I drove around to Main Street to catch you," Quinn explained coolly.

"Don't worry. They never would have hurt you in public. Karofsky and his friends are like dogs, they chase whatever excites them for the time being," Quinn said. "Just be smart and make sure you're not by yourself next time."

"Okay," Mercedes said, as Quinn parked near the bus stop.

"Quinn…There's something you need to know," Mercedes said. Mercedes knew this wasn't the perfect time to tell her, but then she concluded that no time was ever just right to deliver this kind of message.

"What," Quinn said, taking off her sunglasses, and fixing her ponytail.

"Last Saturday, I saw Finn kissing Rachel in the woods behind the movie screen. I'm so sorry," Mercedes told her.

"It's okay…I knew," Quinn said.

"You- you knew?" Mercedes repeated.

"I saw them once necking under the bleachers during cheer practice," Quinn said, exhaling. "With that kind of sloppy behavior I'm surprised that everybody doesn't know."

"I don't understand how…how-"Mercedes began.

"How am I not furious? He's the captain of the football team and I'm the head cheerleader. We are both on the way to becoming homecoming royalty. He's not going to give that up for some loud, obnoxious Jewish girl. He may not be 100% faithful, but his loyalty will always be to me," Quinn said.

When she saw the look of disbelief on Mercedes' face, Quinn rolled her eyes. "Don't you look down on me, Jones. We are both women, but you and I both know we are not the same. In my world, a reputation is all a girl has, and once that's gone, she has nothing to take care of her."

"You have yourself. That's all you need," Mercedes said, as the bus finally pulled up.

Quinn scoffed. "Says the girl, who would've been screwed if I hadn't helped her," Quinn said, putting back on her sunglasses and starting her car.

"And the girl will always remember it," Mercedes said. She got out of the car closing the door behind her.

"Hey!"

Mercedes turned around. Quinn rolled down her window. "Thanks, for telling me about Finn. I won't forget that either," she said, before driving off.

* * *

"And you said I couldn't pay attention," Artie said, waving his hand in front of Mercedes' face. Mercedes snapped out of her daze. "Sorry, Artie," she said, closing her trig book. "I'm not that boring am I," Artie said sarcastically, adjusting his glasses. Mercedes didn't laugh, as she looked at the clock.

Artie: What's up with you?

Mercedes: I'm wishing things were different. That people I don't even know didn't hate me.

"You know you're just about the most pessimistic person I've ever met Mercedes Jones. There are worse thing in life you know," Artie said, repeating what Mercedes had told him earlier that week. Mercedes smiled for the first time all day.

Mercedes: You're very wise Artie Abrams.

Artie: I know. And handsome

Mercedes: {rolling her eyes} And handsome

Artie: And charming

Mercedes: Oh! so very charming!

Artie: It's the chair. It makes me look mature.

Mercedes: Don't forget self-centered.

Artie: I can afford to be self-centered. All I have is me

Mercedes: And me.

Artie: {seriously} And you.

The bell rang. "I'll see you tomorrow, Artie," Mercedes said before closing the class door behind her. Artie smiled to himself, humming 'My Girl' as he wheeled to the piano.

Sam was waiting at Mercedes' locker. He was smiling as usual, but this time his eyes were a bit more serious. "Can we talk?" Sam asked. Mercedes looked around. Many people had stopped to look at them. "Let's have lunch at the bleachers," Mercedes said…

Sam wiped Mercedes' seat before she sat next to him on the metal bleachers. "What is it?" Mercedes asked him. Sam cleared his throat before he began to speak.

"Umm, I talked to my coach, and he won't ease up on the practice schedule. Which means I can't join that chorus club with you," Sam said. "Oh… It's okay, Sam," Mercedes said. "I mean I didn't think you'd be interested anyway really."

"No! That's the thing I'm interested in whatever you're interested in. Your stuff is important to me," Sam told Mercedes, taking her hand. "I want to be there for you. I want you to rely on me," Sam said.

Mercedes: Sam, if you can't do this one thing, that doesn't mean I'm going to think you're unreliable. I know you'll be there for me.

Sam: …Then why do you ask Kurt for everything, and not me?

Mercedes: What? That's not true

Sam: You asked him to join your music club, and you're always talking to him, hugging him, letting him walk you to the bus stop. And he calls you "sweety"

Mercedes: Sam Evans. Are you jealous?

Sam: Yes! How could you not pick up on that! I practically threw all my dignity out the window in the caf just so you would pay attention to me.

Mercedes: Sam…You mean to tell me you only sang that song in the caf because you wanted to upstage Kurt? How long have you been feeling like this?

Sam: Since the first day of school. You know the saying keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Mercedes: That's why you let Kurt sit at the cool table and meet your friends, so you could keep your eye on him?

Sam: I feel so ashamed. But I was intimidated by him. He's smart, and he's got that movie star face, and I know he likes you.

Mercedes: {laughing} Sam, you fool! He doesn't like me like that.

Sam: Maybe not now, but he will unless he's an idiot.

Mercedes: I am not his type, Sam. We're friends and that's it I promise. You're just going to have to trust me.

Sam: I trust you. It's him I don't trust. I just feel like he's hiding something.

Mercedes: It's not what you think, Sam. Kurt's as decent and honest as any other person. Probably more.

Sam: {sad-like} You like him don't you. I knew it.

Mercedes: {smiling} You know no such thing. I can't believe the great Sam Evans is jealous.

Sam: How can I not be? For the first time in my life, I have so much to lose.

Sam touched the side of Mercedes' face. Mercedes bit her bottom lip, looking into his eyes. "I told you before you'd never shake me. Believe it," she whispered. "I believe it," Sam breathed, catching Mercedes mouth in his. Sam pulled at Mercedes' blouse so that she would be forced to lean against him. She giggled in his mouth, then pulled away suddenly. "Sam!" Mercedes squealed, hitting him on the shoulder. "What?" Sam said still pulling at her blouse. "You know what!" Mercedes said, scooting away from him. Sam smiled coolly looking down at his pants, his ears going red. "I'm sorry. Got a little excited," Sam admitted.

"You know… I could quit the football team," he said, his eyes fixing his eyes on Mercedes' lips. "Shut up, Sam," Mercedes told him, shaking her head.

* * *

"Mr. Schuester," Mercedes said, entering the music room.

"Oh thank goodness," Mr. Schuester said, smiling. "I thought no one would show up."

Mercedes took a seat near the piano. Mr. Schuester checked his watch. "I guess we should start," he said.

There was a knock on the door. Kurt stuck his head through. "Hi, I'm here for the show choir," Kurt said. "Come in," Mr. Schuester said, smiling, opening the door for him. Kurt winked at Mercedes taking the seat next to her.

"I didn't think you'd make it," Mercedes said. Kurt took her hand.

"Well, I decided that maybe I would try something a little more Kurt Hummel," he said.

"They didn't let you on the team did they," Mercedes said. "They offered me towel boy, which the only thing worse than being beaten up for singing show tunes," Kurt admitted. Mercedes laughed.

"Excuse me. I'm here for show choir."

Tina Chang just walked through the door. She waved meekly at Mercedes and Kurt before taking her seat. "Hey," Mercedes said, somewhat surprised to see her.

"Hi. I wanted to apologize for being so nasty to you yesterday," Tina said. "You've always been nice to me, and I shouldn't be jealous of you."

"I'm sorry too," Mercedes said. "Friends?" Tina said. "Of course," said Mercedes, hugging her.

"Is this the choir room? Hey yall," Santana said, spotting Mercedes and Kurt near the piano.

"Santana! I never thought you'd be up for this," Mercedes said, scooting over to give her friend room. "Me neither, but you guys need some serious hot stuff in this group. And no one can out pretty me except for Kurt," Santana said.

"It looks like nothing but Roosevelt kids are going to run this club," Santana said, seeing only one McKinley student, Tina, in the whole room.

"Well, you guys are definitely a new direction for McKinley High," Mr. Schuester said. "But it's just what we need."

"I give us a week, tops," Kurt said, making everyone laugh.

"Excuse me, are you here to join show choir?" Mr. Schuester called to the guys, standing at the door. Mercedes squeezed Kurt's hand when she recognized the group who chased her through the park.

"You guys are dead," Karofsky said, as his friends laughed. Mr. Schuester closed the door on them as they walked away laughing.

"Let's start," Mr. Schuester said to the others, passing out the sheet music. Mercedes hands shook when she took the sheet. Kurt looked at her, but she just smiled at him reassuringly. She hoped Kurt was wrong, and they would last more than a week. But if they were going to pull it off, they would need more members.

Quinn pushed Finn into the hallway lockers.

"What're you doing?" Finn said, surprised at the strength of his girlfriend.

"I know about you and Rachel," Quinn said, crossing her arms.

All the blood flushed from Finn's face.

"Quinn. I love you so much I-"

"Shut up," Quinn said, shaking her head.

"Now I could either do two things," Quinn told Finn, holding up two fingers. "I could break up with you, and let everyone know just how not noble and worthy you really are OR I could forgive you. But If I do the second thing, you have to do something for me."

Finn swallowed. "What is it? Anything," he said. Quinn smirked.

"I want you to tell the football coach to let the players join the show choir," Quinn said.

"But they would never join," Finn said. Quinn smiled.

"Yes they will. Because you're going to join too," Quinn said.

**To be continued…**


	6. Chapter 6

**New Directions: Samcedes 1965 Lima, Ohio Part 6**

"Come on Santana. More jazz hands!" Mr. Schuester said, as everyone practiced the new steps.

"If he says jazz hands one more time, I'm going to stick my jazz foot up his ass," Santana whispered to Mercedes as they passed each other.

"Okay, Charleston everyone!" Mr. Schuester said.

"Oh god enough!" Santana yelled. Brad, the pianist, stopped playing.

"Look even my momma is too young to remember the charleston, Mr. Schue," said Santana.

Mr. Schuester put his hands on his hips, exhaling from frustration.

"The Charleston is a patented show choir move," Mr. Schuester said.

"See that would sound more impressive if anyone actually knew what a show choir was," Kurt said, who was holding Mercedes in the waltzing position.

"Can't we try something a little more…young?" Mercedes asked.

"Even if we did try something not from the Stone Age, it doesn't change the fact that it'll be three girls dancing around one boy," Santana said. "It's super awkward."

"She's right," Kurt said.

At that moment there was a knock at the door. Finn, Mike, Puck, and Sam entered. They were still in their football uniforms.

"Can I help you?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"Are we too late?" Finn asked, moving his helmet to his other arm so he could shake Mr. Schuester's hand.

"Too late for what?" Mr. Schuester replied, slightly confused.

"We are here for your Showman chorus or whatever," Puck said, winking at Santana who scoffed.

Mercedes and Tina squealed, jumping up and down.

"Oh thank god," Kurt said, as Mercedes and Tina hugged each other.

"It's a miracle," Mr. Schuester said in disbelief as the football players tried to find a partner. "Alright, places everyone! We have four days before the Friday's pep rally!"

"If you don't mind," Sam said smoothly, pushing Kurt out of the way so he could partner with Mercedes.

* * *

"What is that?" Kurt asked.

It was the next day at lunch. Mercedes had been so deep in thought; she didn't even see Kurt take a seat by her.

"It's nothing," Mercedes said, trying to hide the piece of paper.

"Oh really," Kurt said snatching it, "Then you won't mind if I read it."

"Hey!" Mercedes said, as Kurt read the note.

The smile on his face quickly retreated.

"Mercedes…what the hell is this?" he said.

Mercedes exhaled, not having the energy to make up a lie.

Mercedes: It's a list… of the people I think who could be trying to kill me.

Kurt: What? Are you serious?

Mercedes: Yes Kurt.

Kurt read the list:

**Dave Karofsky**

**Shane Tinsley**

**Samantha Sims**

**Quinn Fabray**

**Sam Evans**

"What the hell, Mercedes. This is crazy," Kurt said, putting the list back on the table. "I know it is," Mercedes said, rubbing her eyes. This was the first time Kurt noticed how tired-looking Mercedes appeared. "What makes you even think someone is trying to kill you?" Kurt asked. "These," Mercedes told Kurt, pulling out the notes from her dress pocket.

"I started getting them in my locker the second day of school," Mercedes said. Kurt read them, the fear growing on his face. He shook his head. "It's not the same person who burned the school down. It can't be. Someone is just messing with you," Kurt said, reassuringly, almost more to assure himself. "That's what I was hoping, until I got this one yesterday," Mercedes said, pulling the last note out of her pocket.

**WHEN I LOCK YOU IN THIS TIME,  
YOU WON'T ESCAPE**

"Who else would know we were locked in except for the actual culprit?" Mercedes said. For the first time since the fire, Kurt flashbacked to the scariest moment in his life. He dropped the note.

"Then someone was trying to kill us," Kurt whispered.

"Not us… me," Mercedes said. "All the notes came from my locker."

"Mercedes, you have to tell the police," Kurt said.

"They won't care. They already said the fire was natural causes," Mercedes told him.

"But you have new evidence! Evidence that says it wasn't an accident!" Kurt exclaimed.

"This isn't evidence, Kurt. They are just going to say it's some riled up school kid. There isn't a law against writing notes in Ohio," said Mercedes.

"Threatening notes! There should be a crime on intimidating someone," Kurt said. "There isn't, Kurt," Mercedes answered. "Mercedes, listen to me. You're going to take all this to the police. Promise me you'll go," Kurt said to her, handing her back the notes. "Promise!"

"I promise," Mercedes said.

Kurt picked up the list again.

**Kurt**: How did you come up with these names?

**Mercedes**: Dave Karofsky is a bully and I know he hates Roosevelt because he started that boycott on the football team.

Kurt: He sounds like the type.

Mercedes: Yeah, but there's a few things that don't fit with him. Whoever wrote the notes knows who I am. I'm pretty sure Karofsky doesn't even know my name. He keeps calling me "My Girl"

Kurt: So then you put Shane.

Mercedes: Yes… He's the only one who has reason to hate me. But we share so many friends; I can't imagine him risking their lives just to get back at me.

Kurt: {looking at the note} Isn't Samantha Sims that red-headed cheerleader?

Mercedes: She's in my gym class. She's been giving me hell ever since she found out Sam liked me.

Kurt: But I don't really think she'd kill you over that.

Mercedes: You'd be surprised how crazy a girl would go for a guy she wants.

Kurt: But why Quinn?

Mercedes: Sam mentioned her father is a police officer. He would have all the reports of what happened that day in the basement. Quinn might have seen them. But I crossed her name off some time ago. She's okay.

Kurt: So…Why did you put Sam's name on here? That's kind of crazy.

Mercedes: I know… But Kurt, except for you, he's the only one who knows where my locker is.

Kurt: Mercedes

Mercedes: I know it's not him. I'm just so tired Kurt. I haven't slept since I got the last note.

Kurt: Maybe you should tell Sam. I mean, he knows everybody at the school. He could help you find out who it is.

Mercedes: I can't tell him, Kurt.

Kurt: Why not. He cares about you

Mercedes: That's why I can't tell him. You think I can't sleep? Imagine if I tell him. He won't rest until he finds the guy.

Kurt: Good!

Mercedes: You don't understand Kurt! The first person he'll go to is Shane. If they duke it out, the team will be split in two, and then no one will play Friday.

Kurt: Who cares about the stupid game!

Mercedes: I care! That team playing Friday is the only thing stopping the school from tearing itself apart! If we perform well at the pep rally, all this animosity between Roosevelt and McKinley will heal. Music can do that.

Kurt: You did it for him, didn't you. You started the show choir so that you and Sam could be together.

Mercedes: Believe it or not, Kurt. I did it for you too.

"What's going on? What's wrong?"

Sam had just showed up at the table with Finn, Quinn, and Brittany.

Mercedes and Kurt, who both had tears in their eyes, quickly wiped them away.

"Umm, we were just talking about the last scene from the Sound of Music. It was so poignant," Kurt said, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing his eyes dramatically. Mercedes nodded, putting a smile on her face.

"Yall scared me for a moment," Sam said, taking a seat at the table. "You really love that movie huh Mercedes," Sam said. "Uh huh," Mercedes said, folding up the list in her hand, putting in her pocket.

"We are screwed," Finn said, slumping down next to Quinn.

Quinn: What's wrong?

Finn: I'm going to be the laughing stock of the whole school because of this stupid pep rally and that dumb song we have to perform.

Sam: It's not that bad.

Finn: Yes it is. 'There's no Business like Show Business?'! We might as well sing Old Man River

Kurt: He's right. And those dance steps make me want to hurt myself.

"There's No Business like Show Business is a Broadway classic Finn," said Rachel, who had just arrived at the table.

Sam: I don't think that many students are into Broadway here though

Quinn: No one here is into Broadway.

Finn: I'll say it once again. I am screwed.

Rachel: Have no fear. I heard you were down a few female voices and I'm happy to offer my talents.

Finn: That's nice of you Rachel, but what we really need is a new music.

Mercedes: What about the Temptations? You guys did it before and everyone loved it.

Finn: That was different. We were just messing around. Vice Principal Sylvester would never let us perform race music at a pep rally.

Kurt: Well… who says she has to know.

Everyone went quiet.

Rachel: Wait a minute. You're not actually considering this are you? Show choir is for the performance of show tunes only.

Mercedes: But it's a pep rally. Our job is to get everyone peppy for the game. We can't do it with show tunes.

Sam: But we can with Rock n Roll.

Quinn: I have to agree with Mercedes. Whether it's banned in school or not, race music is what's hip now. Everyone's into it. I say you should do it.

Rachel: You're not even in the show choir, Quinn.

Mercedes: You think you could teach the cheerleaders a little dance routine to go with the new number?

Quinn: Are you kidding? Brit here is our choreographer and she could get a cat to shimmy if she wanted.

Brittany: It's true. My cat is an amazing dancer.

Finn: Wait, then we'll need new moves for the show choir too.

Mercedes: Oh I got the moves. Me and Santana can show everybody tomorrow what to do.

Rachel: Wait wait wait. You guys aren't serious.

Sam: Who's in?

Everyone except Rachel raised their hand. "And not a word to Mr. Schuester. That goes double for you Berry," Quinn said.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't mind, Artie?" Mercedes asked.

"No, I can figure it out the math on my own," Artie replied as Mercedes sewed next to him. He cut the red string for her, so she could start on the next dress.

"I just haven't got the time to finish these outfits after school," Mercedes said between breaths, as she tried to blow her bangs from her eyes. Her hands were occupied.

"Here woman," Artie said, reaching over and moving her hair to the side.

Mercedes: Thank you

Artie: You know you're kind of cute when you're doing domestic things.

Mercedes: Don't make me kick you Artie

Artie: {indignantly} You'd kick a man in a wheelchair?

Mercedes: If he got on my nerves I would.

Artie: I thought you were done sewing dresses for your club

Mercedes: I was, but another girl decided to join last minute, so here I am.

Artie: See this is what happens when you're nice to people. If your ass had said no, you'd be relaxing right now instead of pricking your fingers, trying to make that girl a dress.

Mercedes: I know this blonde cheerleader who's just as cynical as you and is possibly your soul mate.

Artie: I don't date cheerleaders.

Mercedes: Negro, you don't date anyone.

Artie: It's takes a whole lot of woman to keep up with all this

Mercedes: Just keep telling yourself that Artie. But seriously, having someone special is nice

Artie: {sarcastically} I didn't realize you were the ambassador of successful relationships.

Mercedes: Wow! Last time I ever try to get you a girl. You're on your own now.

Artie: I don't need your help. I've already got a few females lined up.

Mercedes: Your mom and your sister don't count

Artie: Don't be talkin bout my mom

Mercedes: {pricking herself with a needle} Ouch!

Artie: See, God doesn't like ugly.

By fifth period, Mercedes was feeling the effects of her insomnia. "Psst, Mercedes, you're drooling," Santana whispered. Mercedes quickly wiped her mouth. "What's wrong with you?" Santana asked. "I'm having trouble sleeping at my house," Mercedes said, rubbing her eyes. "Why?" Santana asked. Mercedes could not bring the words "I think a killer is stalking me" to leave her mouth. She just shrugged her shoulders continued writing her notes. "Why don't you sleep at my house? You could come over and we could work on the steps then get an early night," Santana said. "That sounds great," Mercedes said.

Just then one of the McKinley students tossed a paper airplane at Mercedes who picked it up. It was a folded up pep rally flyer. It had "ROOSEVELT BITES" written all over it. Mercedes crumpled the paper back up. She couldn't be bothered with it. McKinley High would see very soon just how wrong they were about Roosevelt.

Gym class was a hassle as always. Someone had put Mercedes' clothes in the shower again, but by now she was bringing an extra dress to school to change into. Not only were her clothes being snatched by Samantha Sims, but it seemed the Roosevelt girls ostracized her too out of fear of similar treatment.

When the last school bell rang, Mercedes gathered her stuff to leave. As she left the gym, she ended up bumping into the last person she wanted to see.

"Watch where you're going," Shane said.

"Real mature," Mercedes said, trying to pass him. He took her arm.

"You and those other kids still trying to sing at the pep rally?" Shane asked.

"Yeah we are," Mercedes said rolling her eyes.

Shane scoffed. "You're a fool Mercedes. And don't even think for a second I'm going to block for your white boyfriend," he said.

Mercedes ragged her hand away. "I wish you would do something stupid like getting him hurt on the field. Cause I swear to God I'll let everyone know what you did, and you'll never play another down for the rest of your life."

"I guess it's true then," Shane said, smirking.

"What's true?" Mercedes asked.

"That you're a little slut stuck on a white boy who can never love you back," Shane said.

Mercedes shook her head, walking away from Shane as quickly as possible. As she turned the corner to her locker, she saw Sam waiting there. Mercedes turned around quickly, but Sam had already spotted her. "Hey MJ wait up!" Sam said, walking after her. Sam caught up to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. Mercedes moved it. "What's wrong?" Sam asked, noticing Mercedes' red eyes. Mercedes shrugged, shaking her head. "What still crying over the Sound of Music?" Sam asked, wiping a tear from her face. "What?" Mercedes said. Sam gave a small smile. "You didn't think I'd actually believe that fib you and Kurt told at the table?" Sam said.

This kind of took Mercedes by surprise. "Just tell me," Sam said.

Mercedes: I can't tell you.

Sam: Why not?

Mercedes: Because I don't want to upset you.

Sam: Upset me? I'm not a child, MJ.

Mercedes: You might as well be.

Sam: What's that supposed to mean?

Mercedes: You walk around with these rose-colored glasses over your eyes. You think everything is just fine and dandy in the world when it's not. And every time you feel like showing your blatant affections for me I'm the one who has to pay for it.

Sam: Look, I know it's hard but-

Mercedes: Hard? I'm being called a slut behind my back

Sam: You can't let them get to you. We are in this together.

Mercedes: No we're not. Someone burned down my school with me inside. No one has, or ever will, hate you that much.

Sam: You'd be surprised.

Mercedes smiled shaking her head. "Don't be funny, Sam," Mercedes said. "I wish you'd believe in me," Sam said. It was the first time she had ever seen Sam sad.

Mercedes put her hand on Sam's cheek. Sam closed his eyes at Mercedes' touch.

* * *

"Are you sleeping?" Mercedes asked.

"Not now," Santana said grumpily as she lay in bed next to Mercedes.

Mercedes: Can I ask you a question?

Santana: Sure. I wanted to paint my nails before bed anyway

Santana sat up and turned on her desk lamp.

Mercedes: Do you ever feel weird about passing?

Santana: …Sometimes. I used to feel I was betraying my father by not telling people. But he encouraged it. In his country, it's common to have black Hispanics, but people don't understand it here. Anyway, it didn't get hard till high school

Mercedes: Why?

Santana: Well, boys are tricky. If a white boy likes me it's probably because he doesn't know my father is part black, and if a black boy likes me it's probably because he likes the fact that I'm so light skinned. I hate it, because I never for sure you know.

Mercedes: Yeah.

Santana: You're lucky

Mercedes: Me?

Santana: With Sam, you know he likes you for you. I'd give anything for a boy to look at me and not feel scared if he knows or not.

Mercedes: Noah could be that way.

Santana: You think Noah wouldn't get scared if he found out he was trying to bed a negro this whole time? He'd piss all over himself. Trust me, Sam Evans is one of a kind.

Mercedes: Sam could get scared too.

Santana: The only thing Sam Evans is scared of is losing you.

Mercedes: What am I going to do?

Santana: Go steady with him already.

Mercedes: He hasn't asked me yet.

Santana: Then you ask him! Damn, the world is hard enough as it is without you adding your illogical insecurities.

Mercedes: insecurities

Santana: You heard me. I thought Mercedes Jones wasn't afraid of anything, but I guess I was wrong.

Mercedes rolled her eyes before pulling the covers back over her head. "Mercedes Jones isn't afraid of anything," she mumbled, making Santana laugh and mess up her nails.

The next morning Mercedes received permission to miss school so she could go down to the police station. She honestly did not know what to expect. The Lima police department wasn't known for being obliging to the black citizens.

After she gave her statement, the police officer at the front desk offered Mercedes a seat. She sat there for an hour, as cops passed her on the way out. She was beginning to think she had made a mistake. The police officer at the desk was having a heated argument with someone on the other line. "Well, what do you want me to do with her?" Mercedes heard him ask. It wasn't till another half hour when the officer told Mercedes to follow him.

He took her to an unoccupied cubicle that had piles of books. "Wait here," the officer said, leaving her to sit alone once again. Mercedes checked her watch and exhaled.

"Are you Mercedes Jones?"

Mercedes looked up to see who was talking to her. In front of her was a beautiful woman who looked in her thirties. She had long brown hair, brown eyes and a distinct jaw line.

"Yes, I'm Mercedes," Mercedes told her, slightly confused.

"Hi, I'm detective Shelby Corcoran," she said, holding out her hand. Mercedes shook it. It was her first time ever seeing a female detective before.

Detective Corcoran took a seat across from Mercedes. "Sorry about the mess, I just started last month and I'm sharing this space with another detective who's a pig," she said. "No, it's alright," Mercedes said, still staring at the woman in surprised curiosity.

Detective Corcoran opened the file in her hand, flipping through the papers inside.

Shelby: This is a very sensitive case we are dealing with here. The first detective who was assigned to this closed it after two days, saying that the fire was natural causes, but you and me both know that's not the situation here.

Mercedes still stared at the woman, not sure on what she was supposed to say. Detective Corcoran noticed this. "There's no need to be afraid. You did the right thing coming here," she told her. Mercedes nodded. "I just want whoever did this to be caught," Mercedes said.

Shelby: We'll get him. Now I'm going to be 100% honest with you, because that's the only way I see how this is going to work. The mayor and the police chief had no intention re-opening this case. And you shook a lot of people up by coming in today, because chances are this is a hate crime in the highest degree, and that could get a lot of important people in trouble. But I'm going to tell you something that no one else in this room knows. I am the best damn detective in this entire precint, and we are going to catch that son of a bitch. Do you trust me Mercedes?

Mercedes: I trust you .

Shelby: Good. I'm going to give you my card so we can keep in touch.

By the time Mercedes had given the detective all the information she needed, it was already half passed one. Before heading to school, she took the bus to the Berry drug store to pick up something to eat. "Will that be all?" Mr. Berry asked her. Mercedes didn't answer because there was someone who she recognized who just passed the window. "Oh, umm, yes thank you," Mercedes replied finally, handing the store owner her money. After receiving her change she quickly left the store

"Stevie?" Mercedes said.

Sam's little brother turned around slowly. He was wearing his signature dingy jean overalls with a white shirt that had a blood stain on it.

"I know you're not playing hookie Stevie Ev- What on earth happened to your face?" Mercedes asked after noticing Stevie's purple lip. "Nothin," he said, "I fell."

"You fell right into someone's fist," Mercedes said.

Stevie: It was just a little fight

Mercedes: You're seven years old

Stevie: Nine and a half!

Mercedes: That's still too young to be getting into fights.

Stevie: No it ain't. My daddy was huntin and fightin at my age.

Mercedes: That's the south. This is Lima. Come on I'm going to walk you home.

Stevie: I don't need no girl walkin me home. It's not good for my reputation.

Mercedes: How about if you walk me to your house, you can hold my hand?

Stevie: …No foolin?

Mercedes: Scouts honor.

Stevie: …Well I suppose I can stand it. If I get to hold your hand

Stevie wiped his hands on his overalls before taking Mercedes' hand in his as they crossed the street. As they walked to his house, Stevie told Mercedes about his bug collection that he had and how it was much cooler that Sam's "stupid comic books."

When they reached the dirt road, leading to the trailer, Stevie ran ahead to the house so he could show Mercedes his new frog. When Mercedes finally arrived in front of the Evans home, she was taken aback by the sight in front of her.

Both windows looked like someone had thrown a brick threw them. On the porch, Mary Evans was scrubbing away at the faded words "NIGGER LOVER" someone left in white paint on the wood. Dwight Evans was under the truck, replacing his tires which had all mysteriously been flattened.

Mr. Evans, who was pre-occupied with one of the front tires, was the first to hear the faint crying. He rolled out from under the car to find his oldest son's girl hyperventilating in front of the house.

"Mary!" Dwight called to his wife. Mary Evans looked up and saw Mercedes. She quickly ran to her to calm her down.

"He- he didn't. He didn't t-tell me," Mercedes said through sobs as Mary tried to shush her. "We know that sweetheart," she said, holding her.

"I-I n-never knew" Mercedes said, holding her face. She felt her knees buckling as she cried harder.

Dwight Evans came over helping his wife help Mercedes to the house. "He didn't want you to know darlin," he said. "Don't cry now. It's not your fault."

Mercedes had never cried so hard in her life. It was almost as if the tears she should have shed a month ago when she almost died were coming out now. Mary Evans sat her down at the kitchen table. She held her for ten minutes, rocking her back and forth and patting her on the back like a baby. Mercedes cried till she had hiccups. Then when she stopped, Mrs. Evans got her some warm milk to drink.

In the past two weeks the Evans family was visited by vandals late in the night. The last visit, which happened two nights ago, Mr. Evans managed to scare the culprit away with his shot gun.

Mercedes knew that Mr. and Mrs. Evans knew she didn't know about the incidents, but she couldn't stop saying it. But Mrs. Evans was patient with her, combing Mercedes' hair with her fingers and telling her that she knew and it was okay.

"Finish your milk, sweetheart," Mrs. Evans said. Mercedes was finally calm. She gulped down the last of the milk. "Thank you," Mercedes said softly, slightly embarrassed at the episode she had just had. "It's nothing sweetheart," Mrs. Evans said. Dwight Evans, who had taken a break on fixing his truck, took a seat next to Mercedes.

Mr. Evans: This is probably something your father should tell you or has told you. You can't blame yourself for other people's bad decisions.

Mercedes: I bet you wish your son never met me

Mr. Evans: Not true. Why you're just what I prayed for.

Mercedes: I am?

Mr. Evans: Yes you are. What I know now, I didn't learn till I was a grown man in the army. It took dead men's bodies to make me understand just how pointless and evil ignorance is. I tried to raise my family to think differently than those around them but I couldn't protect them forever. So I packed them up and moved them up north, hoping it would be different.

Mercedes: Was it?

Mr. Evans: Not really. You learn everyone's the same: North or South. Just that some are more quiet about their hatred than others. But then you came into my boy's life and I knew you were different.

Mercedes: I was so rude to him Mr. Evans

Mr. Evans: The Evans women never give in easy.

Mrs. Evans: That's the truth.

Mr. Evans: The point I'm trying to make darlin is you that you may think befriending my son is bad because everyone is treating you differently. But when you produce light, you gain the ability to see what was once covered up in darkness. The peace this town claimed to have never existed. These people were always angry. They just needed something to be angry at.

Mercedes: So what do I do?

Mr. Evans: Well, that's all up to you.

"Mercedes, what're you doing here?"

Sam had just arrived home.

"It's alright Samuel," Dwight told his son calmly.

"We'll be outside," Mary said. Mr. and Mrs. Evans shut the door behind them

"They're probably listening at the door," Mercedes said with a little smile.

"You're probably right," Sam said, holding out his hand. He took Mercedes to his room that was around the size of a walk in closet. The two sat down on the bed.

"…If you want out I'll understand," Sam said. The last thing he wanted was Mercedes to be stuck with him if it meant she could be in danger. Though, it went against all his emotions, Sam knew Mercedes deserved the option of bailing on him. So, he was a little surprised when she hit him upside the head.

"Oh hell to the no! You're breaking up with me?"

"What?" Sam said, who didn't see the conversation going this way. But that was a natural occurrence with Mercedes Jones.

Sam: No I'm not breaking up with you! Wait, we aren't even going out!

Mercedes: And whose fault is that!

Sam: Not mine! You're the one who doesn't want to go steady with me!

Mercedes: How would you even know that! You haven't even asked me!

Sam: GO OUT WITH ME THEN

Mercedes: I WILL

"W-what?" Sam said, who felt like he had just been tricked. "I said I will Sam," Mercedes said smiling. "Just like that?" Sam asked. Mercedes chuckled. "Don't you get it Sam? You've had my heart from the very first time I said yes to you at the dance. If you want it, just ask," Mercedes told him.

"So, you'll be my girlfriend?" Sam said.

Mercedes nodded.

"Marry me," Sam said.

"Okay now you're abusing the moment," Mercedes said.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "It was worth a shot," he said slyly.

Sam: So if you're my girlfriend now, that means I can kiss you whenever I want.

Mercedes: Whenever you want.

Sam: That we can go on dates by ourselves.

Mercedes: Uh huh.

Sam: Go necking under the bleachers.

Mercedes: Hell no. That's tacky

Sam: What about your parents?

Mercedes: I'm telling them.

Sam: Good. I hope they like me

Mercedes: They'll have to. You did save my life after all.

Sam: Yeah I am awesome like that.

Mercedes: {rolling her eyes} You could stand to be less conceited Sam Evans

Sam: Less talking. More kissing.

Mercedes: Hold on. What about my human rights?

Sam: Boyfriend rights trump human rights every time

Sam kissed Mercedes. When he started to put his tongue in Mercedes mouth, she realized he had been putting on a polite front this whole time, and was quite the animal. His hand slowly scooted under Mercedes dress, pulling at her underwear.

"Sam!"

"What?" Sam said, sucking at her neck now.

"You're parents are outside," Mercedes said, as Sam's lips moved down to her chest.

Sam stopped. "You're right. We should lock the door," he said.

Mercedes laughed, pushing Sam off of her.

As Mercedes fixed her dress, Sam pulled something out of his pocket. "I've been carrying this with me for the past three weeks," Sam said.

"I know, most girls want lockets or diamonds," he began, handing Mercedes the necklace. "This was my dad's, when he fought in World War II. He gave them to me when I was ten," Sam said. Mercedes looked at the tiny copper-gold dog tags.

"I know they're old. You don't have to wear them-"

"Will you put it on me?" Mercedes asked, holding up her hair.

Sam smiled. He kissed Mercedes shoulder as he placed gold chain holding the tags around her neck.

"You make them look brand new," Sam said, touching them then smiling up at her.

"I love them. Thank you," Mercedes told him, hugging Sam. "We should get going, before practice starts," Mercedes remembered, checking her watch.

The two left Sam's room. Sam opened the front door to find his parents sitting quietly on the porch. "Helloooo," Dwight Evans said, eyeing Sam suspiciously. "Where yall headed off to?" he asked. "Back to school," Sam said, closing the door behind him.

"Where's my kiss?" Dwight asked. "Sorry, Daddy," Sam said, going to his father to kiss him. "Not you, boy," Dwight said, pushing him out of the way.

Mercedes laughed, going up to Sam's dad and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Alright then, be careful you two," Mary Evans said, as Sam and Mercedes headed out.

Sam took Mercedes' hand as they walked down the road.

"You're parents seem happy," Mercedes said. "At least they don't think we're heading in the wrong direction."

"It's not wrong. It's just new," Sam said, putting his arm around Mercedes.

* * *

It was five thirty in the afternoon. Santana and Mercedes were going over the moves with the group. It turned out, except for Finn, everyone was a natural dancer. Santana, however, was surprisingly patient with him.

"How about you guys just partner up tomorrow?" Mercedes asked.

"Alright, sounds cool. But if you step on my feet, Finn, I will neuter you," Santana said.

Rachel was being surprisingly quiet during the rehearsal, which seemed strange to Mercedes, since she was the only one against the song change in the first place.

The girls had already learned their choreography and were just watching the boys now from the bleachers. Quinn and the other cheerios practiced their dance around the boys.

Sam winked at Mercedes as he, Finn, Mike, Puck, and Kurt went over their intro moves. Mercedes waved from the bleachers. When it came time for Sam's solo dance, where he was supposed to run up the audience, and blow them a kiss, he instead went up to Mercedes and kissed her in front of everyone, making Tina and Santana squeal and laugh at Mercedes' shocked face. He was definitely abusing his boyfriend privileges. But while the group was having fun, something was going on with the cheerleaders. They had stopped dancing, and Quinn was talking to Samantha Sims.

At some point the band stopped playing and their conversation could be heard throughout the gym.

Quinn: Just get back in formation

Samantha: Why should I have to dance behind Sam Evans and his whore?

Quinn: Because I said so

Samantha: I'm not getting suspended for a colored girl.

Quinn: Fine. Go then.

Samantha: What?

Quinn: Go. You're off the team.

Samantha: You can't kick me off the squad

Quinn: I'm head cheerleader. I can do whatever I want. And honestly your attitude has been pissing me off the past few weeks. A cheerleader who won't cheer is useless to me. So you're out.

Samantha: Don't take your bitterness out on me because your boyfriend can't stop sleeping with Rachel.

Quinn smacked Samantha in front of everyone. Samantha held the side of her face.

Quinn: You're nothing but white trash. White trash that's jealous of a negro cause she has the man you don't. Now get out of my sight.

Samantha picked up her bag from the bleachers. "Screw you Quinn. You guys are going to go down tomorrow anyway," Samantha said, before walking out the gym.

Everyone stood in silence, staring at Quinn. Anyone who wasn't aware that Finn was sleeping with Rachel now knew. Finn opened his mouth to say something, but Quinn shook her head. "Don't talk to me. Not now," she said. "From the top!" Quinn shouted. "One. Two. Three!"

* * *

"Holy crap," Kurt said. The gymnasium was packed to the brim.

"Nervous?" Mercedes asked, as the two sat on the players' bench with the rest of the show choir.

"That's the understatement of the century," Kurt said.

"Uh huh," Mercedes said, turning around to look at the crowd of students.

The hate the pep rally was getting ended up sparking the curiosity of every student in the school, black and white.

"Oh my God, Principal Figgins is in the front row," Tina said. All the members turned to look at him. He had a stern look on his face. Vice principal Sylvester sat next to him.

Rachel showed up minutes before the performance. Her face looked super pale. Not ten seconds after Mr. Schuester came in after her.

"I was told what you guys are about to do," Mr. Schuester said. Everyone turned to Rachel. "There's no way you're not getting a beat down after this," Santana said to her.

"Rachel did the right thing. You all could get in big trouble," Mr. Schuester said. "Why? It's a better song," Puck said.

"You can't sing race music at a school assembly," Mr. Schuester said. Everyone groaned. "That's not even in the student handbook. It's just some stupid tradition that needs to be broken," Kurt said.

As the show choir members argued with their director, the football coach walked up to the microphone, tapping it, and clearing his throat.

"And now to get you guys pumped up for tonight's game against Middleton High, here is the McKinley Show Choir, the New Directions!" he said. The audience gave a polite applause, as the show choir lined up next to the cheerleaders who were already in formation.

The group formed an arrow shape, with the boys on left side and the girls on the right, with Kurt in the front. Kurt turned to look at Mercedes who just nodded to him. Kurt nodded back, then gave a thumbs up to the band.

The music started, and the cheerleaders started dancing.

"I never met a girl who makes me feel the way you do!" Kurt sang in his falsetto voice.

"You're alright!" the boys sang.

"Whenever I'm asked who makes my dreams real, I say that you do!" Kurt sang

"You're outta sight!" the boys called back.

"Oh my God they're doing race music!" Principal Sylvester said.

_**Kurt & Mike**__: So, fee-fi-fo-fum  
Look out baby, 'cause here I come_

_**Everyone**__: And I'm bringing you a love that's true.  
So get ready, so get ready.  
I'm gonna try to make you love me too.  
So get ready, so get ready_

_Kurt: 'cause here I come._

_**The boys**__: Get ready cause here I come  
Get Ready cause here I come_

"We have to stop them," Ms. Sylvester said, getting up. "No, Sue. Let them sing," Principal Figgins said, watching in amazement as the students danced along to the show choir.

Mercedes and Quinn did the hitch hike dance, making the guys cat call as they danced next to each other. Sam stepped out to the front.

_**Sam**__: If you wanna play hide and seek with love, let me remind you_

_The boys: It's alright  
__**Sam**__: But the lovin' you're gonna miss and the time it take to find you_

_The boys: It's outta sight_

The girls screamed as Sam blew a kiss to them. "Get it white boy!" a Roosevelt girl yelled

_**Kurt and Mike**__: So, fiddley-dee, fiddley-dum  
Look out baby, 'cause here I come._

_**Kurt**__: And I'm bringing you a love that's true.  
__**Everyone**__: So get ready, so get ready.  
__**Kurt**__: I'm gonna try to make you love me too.  
__**Everyone**__: So get ready, so get ready  
Kurt: 'cause here I come.  
_

The crowd cheered as the show choir got the dancing part of the section. The boys did their best temptation moves as the girls did the swim with their hands. Everyone was standing now, even the teachers. The cheerleaders jumped up and down, waving their pom poms in the air to instruct the crowd to clap along.

Mr. Schuester stood dumbfounded on the bench.

When the band slowly faded and out and New Direction finished, the gymnasium was filled with a roar of applause. "Yesss!" Puck yelled, picking up Santana in a bear hug and swinging her around. Kurt hugged Mercedes, who looked at Sam and blew him a kiss.

Still overwhelmed at the crowd's applause, the group managed to line up and bow.

"We're suspended aren't we," Mike said.

"Oh yeah. We're definitely suspended," Sam said next to him as the group bowed one more time.

To be continued…

**Songs Used: Get Ready by the Temptations**


	7. Chapter 7

**New Directions: 1965 Lima, Ohio part 7**

**[The reviews are so great you guys. Keep giving feedback :) I like to know what you're thinking.]**

Mercedes walked to the front of the school. The other show choir members were already there waiting for the doors to open. When Sam saw Mercedes, a big smile appeared on his face. He walked down the stairs to meet her. Mercedes felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of Sam beaming at her.

"Hey beautiful," he said, taking her hand.

Mercedes smiled.

"I've never seen someone look so happy to be suspended," Mercedes said, as Sam touched the gold tags dangling from Mercedes' neck.

"Yeah, but can every suspended kid get to do this?" Sam said, leaning over placing a soft kiss on Mercedes plump lips.

Mercedes, who attempted to look un-dazed by the sweet kiss, bit down on her lip. "Yeah, I uh see what you mean," she replied, her cheeks blushing.

Mr. Schuester had just pulled up in his car. When he got out, he looked as anxiety ridden as everybody else in the club. He cleared his throat.

"Alright guys, let's go," Mr. Schuester said as everyone followed him inside the school.

The show choir members stood in Principal Figgins' office. Mr. Schuester, Ms. Sylvester, and Principal Figgins were the only ones sitting down.

Figgins cleared his throat.

"First I would like to congratulate those on the football team for Friday's big win. You made our school proud."

"Thank you sir," Finn replied nervously.

Figgins' face became more serious. "Now I'm sure you've all seen the papers over the weekend," said Figgins, holding up the Lima Times, which showed a picture of the show choir dancing, with the title MCKINLEY GETS GROOVY AT PEP RALLY. Figgins then held up the sixth page of the Cleveland Tribune that read BOOGIE WOOGIE HIGH SCHOOL. The third newspaper Figgins held up was the Chicago Sun-Times that had RACE MUSIC RESTORES OHIO TOWN IN THE MIDST OF TRAGEDY written on the tenth page.

"As a citizen of Lima, I must express the pride you have given me and this town," Figgins began. "However, as your Principal, I am disappointed in your lack of consideration for the rules. You went behind your teacher's back and performed unapproved music, and for that you must be punished."

"You will all receive two-day suspension, to which I hope you will spend that time thinking about what you did. On the day of your return, Mr. Hudson will take over as show choir captain and Miss Jones will be demoted to vice," Figgins announced.

"That's not fair," Kurt said.

"What you should be is expelled," interjected Ms. Sylvester. "Singing that riotous music at our hallowed assembly."

"As it is," Figgins continued, "Miss Jones was your captain and holds the highest responsibility for Friday's performance."

* * *

"I can't believe he suspended us," Tina said, as the group walked out of the office. "I can," Mike said, "My father is going to kill me."

"Mine too," Mercedes said, as Sam put his arm around her. "I'm still stuck on the fact Figgins made Finn captain. He's the one who was whining about the original song in the first place," Santana said. "He's most qualified," Rachel said, "He brought in most of the club members."

"You're a straight up Benedict Arnold, Berry. You totally screwed us over," Puck said, taking out a cigarette.

"You can't smoke in here!" Rachel exclaimed. "Uh we're suspended nitwit. It's not like we're going to get in anymore trouble," Santana said, as Puck handed her a cigarette too.

"So, what do we do now? Besides clean out our lockers" Kurt said glumly.

"Road trip," Puck said, blowing out some smoke. "I just fixed the van. The Kinks are playing in Columbus on Tuesday. Who's up for it?"

"Can I come?" Tina asked.

"Of course! You're one of us now," Puck said, giving her five.

"Alright I'm in too Puckerman, if Mercedes is going," Santana said, turning to her friend. Noah got on his knees in front of Mercedes. "You hold my love life in your hands MJ," he said, as everyone laughed. "Alright! I'll see what I can do," Mercedes said. "Yes! So now Sam's definitely in. What about you Kurt?" Puck asked, getting up from the ground.

"Why not. My dad won't be home till the end of the week anyway," said Kurt, shrugging his shoulders.

"Righteous! Mr. Rock n Roll is in. And I know Brittany will roll with us so you are definitely getting some Tuesday," said Puck high fiving Kurt who smiled nervously.

"Mike Buddy. You gotta come," Puck said.

"We'll see. Maybe, if my father decides to keep me alive," he said.

"Alright man. Well, I guess that's everybody," Puck said, flicking his cigarette bud on the ground.

"What about me?" Rachel asked.

"No squares aloud. That's you too Finn. Sorry, but your two-timing drama would just bring down the mood in the van," Puck told them. The others said nothing, following Puck to the outside of the school.

* * *

"I'm really proud of you," Sam told Mercedes as he pushed the grocery cart next to her.

"For what?" Mercedes said, dropping a can of green beans in the cart.

"Because you led your club to victory. You're a good leader," Sam said.

Mercedes scoffed. "Uh huh, so good I got demoted."

"Finn has no interest in show choir. He may have the fancy title now, but you're still the leader. Everyone still respects you the most. Finn won't be stupid enough to challenge you in anyway. Just give it time. You'll be the captain again," Sam said, rubbing Mercedes' back as she filled the cart.

"You know you're really good at this boyfriend thing," Mercedes said.

"I'm glad you finally noticed," Sam said, following Mercedes to the next aisle.

**Sam**: MJ, this is a lot of food. I thought you were just making meat and potatoes for this dinner.

**Mercedes**: Yeah, well that was before I got suspended this morning. So, I'm making all my dad's favorites. I need him to be full and happy when he meets you tonight.

**Sam**: What's your father like?

**Mercedes**: He's serious. But he can be very charming when he wants to. He usually gets along with everyone. I guess you both are alike in that way.

**Sam**: He doesn't sound too bad. I'm not worried

**Mercedes**: {chuckling} Are you ever?

* * *

"What do you think of this one?" Mercedes asked, coming out of the bathroom. Santana and Kurt sat on Mercedes' bed. Mercedes wore a dark green dress. "Like it. Don't love it," Kurt said. Santana, who was filing her nails, nodded in response.

"Come on! This is the fifth one," Mercedes said grumpily, as she went back into her closet to find another dress. "Hey you asked us to help you," Santana said. "I could be getting my eyebrows done right now."

"Second that. Mine are furrier than a caterpillar," Kurt said, getting up and going over to Mercedes' dresser mirror.

"I'm scared you guys," Mercedes said from the bathroom across the hall.

"What's so scary? It's not like that's the dress you're gonna lose your virginity in," Santana said.

"Santana! Not what I was talking about!" Mercedes said as Kurt and Santana giggled.

"We know, we know," Kurt said, hopping back on the bed. "Everything is going to be fine though. Dinner is already cooked. The house is clean. Your parents don't seem too upset about your getting suspended, and Sam is a pretty swell guy."

"Swell in the pants is what he is," Santana said.

"Santana!" Mercedes yelled.

"What? I wasn't trying to look, but it's pretty obvious the guy is working with something. Right Kurt," Santana said.

"I-I never noticed," Kurt said, his face turning red.

"You had too. The guy looks like he has a sausage roll-"

"Okay what about this one?"

Santana and Kurt looked at Mercedes is stunned silence. Mercedes was wearing a strapless floral print dress made with stiff white cotton. Her hair was half up half down with a white head band in front of the hair bump.

"Well what do you think?" Mercedes asked again when her friends said nothing.

"Screw Sam, I'll buy you a ring. Take you to Paris, feed you escargot, anything you want," Kurt said, grabbing Mercedes and waltzing around the room with her in his arms. Santana and Mercedes laughed.

"What time is it?" Mercedes said, looking at the clock above her closet. "My parents will be home any minute."

"Okay, we're going. Call me later. I want all the details," Santana said, prying Kurt off of Mercedes.

Even with Kurt and Santana's pep talk, when six o'clock finally arrived, Mercedes found herself even more frantic than before. But when Sam rang the doorbell, with flowers in his hand, wearing a navy blue suit (he borrowed from Mike), Mercedes felt nothing but pride as she opened the door for him. Sam had gelled the sides of his hair, making his hair look slightly darker than usual.

"You look so handsome," Mercedes told Sam, letting him in. Mercedes's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Jones were waiting in the sitting room.

"Mom, Dad, this is Sam Evans," Mercedes said, as her parents stood up to greet Sam. "So nice to finally meet you, Samuel. We've heard nothing but great things," Mrs. Jones said cordially, holding out her hand. Sam pulled Mrs. Jones into a hug, kissing her on the cheek. Mercedes giggled at the shocked look on her mother's face. Mercedes may have forgotten to tell them how affectionate the Evans were. "Thank you for inviting me to dinner ma'am," Sam said, handing Mrs. Jones the flowers. Mercedes could tell Sam was a little nervous, but that wasn't going to prevent him from being himself. "Oh, why thank you," Mrs. Jones said breathily, still trying to recover from Sam's friendly greeting, taking the flowers. "Nice to meet you Sam," Mr. Jones said curtly, keeping his hands to himself in fear of receiving a bear hug from his daughter's new boyfriend.

"Let's head to the dining room shall we?" Mrs. Jones said, following her husband pass the kitchen. Right as Mercedes was going to follow them in, Sam took her hand. "You look stunning tonight," he told her. "Thank you," Mercedes said, touching her hair to make sure it was okay. "I don't think I was supposed to kiss your mom," Sam said, his ears growing redder by the minute. Mercedes laughed. "It's alright Sam. Come on before the food gets cold," she said, taking his hand.

Mercedes watched Sam eat and chat with her parents. She stayed silent through most of the conversation, silently admiring how well the evening was going. Sam even managed to make Mercedes' mother laugh at his Clint Eastwood impersonation. Mercedes' father asked Sam a few questions about football and representing the All-American team. The conversation got a little tense when Mr. Jones mentioned Shane Tinsley was an All-American as well, and had a full scholarship to Ohio State, but Mercedes quickly changed the subject by asking if anyone wanted dessert.

"I could go for some of that peach cobbler," Mr. Jones said, as Mercedes cleared the table with her mom.

Sam's knee bounced nervously under the table as Mercedes and Mrs. Jones went into the kitchen for the dessert.

"Look here Dennis the Menace,"

Sam looked up from his plate, unsure if had just heard what he thought he heard.

"Huh?"

"Yeah I'm talkin to you," Mr. Jones said softly so the ladies could not hear them in the kitchen. "My daughter may have fallen for your little knight in shining armor routine, but I know better. You're just a horny little white kid who's latched himself onto the well-off negro girl."

Sam could honestly say he wasn't surprised by Mr. Jones' behavior. Sam knew an alpha dog when he saw one, but Sam himself was not to be mistaken as a pushover. Mr. Jones was a tall man with brooding shoulders and a stern face. His cold appearance was increased by his thin rectangular glasses. Sam assumed Mr. Jones was used to intimidating others around him. But Sam was not to be intimidated.

**Sam**: I didn't latch myself onto Mercedes

**Mr. Jones**: Oh please. Don't play innocent with me boy. You tracked my daughter down like a hound. Don't think I didn't see you skulking around our church that Sunday either.

**Sam**: What's your point sir?

**Mr. Jones**: My point is you got no chance with my daughter.

**Sam**: I care about Mercedes, and she cares about me.

**Mr. Jones**: You're nothing but trouble. Before she met you Mercedes was a quiet honor student who never got in trouble. Now she's breaking rules and getting suspended.

**Sam**: MJ has always been a firecracker, even before me. And at least she got suspended for doing the right thing. You should be proud that your daughter has a backbone.

**Mr. Jones**: I'm not going to let you waltz into my daughter's life and ruin any chances she has of having a decent future.

**Sam**: And what future is that? Working for you as an assistant tooth doctor for the rest of her life?

**Mr. Jones**: And I suppose you have a better profession in mind

**Sam**: Have you not heard your daughter's voice?

**Mr. Jones**: Singers come a dime a dozen. And you of all people should know it doesn't put food on the table.

**Sam**: If you're referring to my father-

**Mr. Jones**: My daughter is too young and naïve to recognize white trash when she sees it. But as her father I'm going to have to educate her.

**Sam**: You wouldn't be telling me these things if you weren't scared that me and MJ could have something special. And we do.

**Mr. Jones: **Keep dreaming boy. You're just part of her little girl phase. When Mercedes turns eighteen, she's going to get over you and your cheap tricks, and find a man who will be able to provide for her.

**Sam:** You think I ran into a fiery building to have the girl of my dreams end up with some stiff poindexter you pick out for her? Not a chance. You might as well start calling me son-in-law, pops, because I'm not going anywhere.

**Mr. Jones:** Over. My. Dead. Body

The two alpha males stared each other down across the table. When they heard footsteps coming from the kitchen, both men relaxed their tense shoulders and leaned back in their chairs. First Mr. Jones started chuckling then Sam quickly joined in.

"What's so funny?" Mercedes asked, bringing in the peach cobbler and setting it down on the table. "Just life," Mr. Jones said, putting on his most convincing smile.

* * *

"He said that?" Puck said, as he and Sam filled up the van at the gas station.

"Yeah, I'm a dead man Puck," Sam said, leaning on the door of the vehicle.

**Puck**: I wouldn't worry about it too much.

**Sam**: Really

**Puck**: I mean think about it. The guy could have thrown you out of his house if he wanted to.

**Sam**: Yeah, but then Mercedes would have been upset

**Puck**: Exactly!

**Sam**: I don't follow you

**Puck**: If MJ's dad is the first one to start something, he loses. Mercedes will take your side automatically and then it'll all be over.

**Sam**: But if I go off on him first…

**Puck**: Then you'll be the bad guy. He wants you to lose your temper see

**Sam**: Puck, that's it.

**Puck**: All you have to do is stay chill and let him dig his own grave

**Sam**: Just be myself

**Puck**: I didn't say that

**Sam**: What's wrong with being myself?

**Puck**: You got a little temper problem.

**Sam**: What?

**Puck**: You're just a tad bit reckless

**Sam**: What?

**Puck**: Sometimes you can get a bit-

**Sam**: I understand what you mean, Puck! I'm not that bad.

**Puck**: Oh yeah? You know how Stevie always gets in fights at the playground and always has this bruised lip?

**Sam**: Yeah

**Puck**: That was you sophomore year.

**Sam**: I wasn't that bad

**Puck**: Where do you think Stevie gets it from?

**Sam**: Not me!

**Puck**: {sarcastically} Sure…

**Sam**: Whatever man.

**Puck**: Just don't prove her pops right okay.

**Sam**: I won't.

**Puck**: Good. Don't worry about it man. Today's going to be ace.

**Sam**: You're right.

**Puck**: Pucksaurus is crowning this day copasetic

Mercedes and Santana waited on the porch for the boys. Both girls opted for pants. Santana was wearing a red strapless tube top and black tights. Her red lipstick matched the top, while her oval sunglasses finished off the Audrey Hepburn appearance.

Mercedes was wearing white skinny pants and a lavender sweater with matching headband. Her hair was straight today with her bangs covering her forehead. When Sam and Puck arrived in the van they had already picked up Tina, Kurt, and Brittany who already latched herself onto Kurt.

"Let me help you with that my lady," Puck said, helping Santana with the picnic basket. Santana rolled her eyes through her sunglasses, stepping into the van while Puck checked out her behind.

"You look far out MJ," Sam said, eyeing his girlfriend's outfit. It was the first time he had seen her in a form fitting outfit, since tight pants were against dress code at McKinley. "Thank you," Mercedes said, blushing as Sam took the rest of the food from her.

"Hey, where's Mike?" Mercedes asked, as Sam helped her into the van.

"His dad grounded him," Puck said, shaking his head.

"…So we have room for one more person?" Mercedes said, looking at the empty seat in the back.

"What do you have in mind?" Sam asked, noticing the mischievous look appearing on Mercedes' face.

"Hey guys… How would you feel about pulling a kidnapping?"

* * *

Artie was just finishing playing a song on the piano when he heard a knock at the door.

Mercedes quietly opened the door, giving Artie a sneaky smile.

"Mercedes, what're you-" Artie began to say before Sam entered the room after Mercedes.

"Sam, Artie; Artie, Sam," Mercedes said, introducing the two quickly.

"How's it hanging Artie," Sam said, coolly, only to receive a judgmental look from Artie.

"Yeah so we're kidnapping you," Mercedes said, looking over her shoulder to see if any teachers were coming. "The Kinks are playing in Columbus and we're gonna see them tonight."

"No thanks," Artie said.

"But you love them," Mercedes said, pouting her face.

"I don't care. I'm not running off with you and those superficial 'cool kids.' I'd rather eat cat food," Artie said, crossing his arms.

"I'm supposed to look after you. I can't do that if I'm suspended, so you're coming with me," Mercedes said, packing Artie's books.

"No way in hell," Artie said, shaking his head.

Sam watched as the two bickered. He had no idea who this Artie kid was, but from the way he was giving Sam disgusted glances, Artie knew who he was apparently.

"Look. This is a kidnapping, meaning this isn't up for negotiation. Whether you like it or not, you're coming with me," Mercedes said, starting to get impatient with her friend.

"Oh yeah! You touch me and I'll scream. Then we'll see who's going where" Artie said, half smirking.

Sam watched as Mercedes got on her knees so she could look up at Artie.

"…Please Artie…For me?" Mercedes said sweetly, biting down on her bottom lip. Sam watched, to his disliking, as Artie's face turned apple red.

"Alright... I'll go," Artie said in his most exasperated tone. Mercedes jumped up. "Great! Sam, could you get the door please?" Mercedes said, as she wheeled Artie out of the room.

As Sam held the door open, he got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something about this kid just rubbed him the wrong way.

Puck and Sam, to Artie's displeasure, helped into the back of the van.

"Alright! Mission Skip Day is a Go!" Puck yelled, starting the engine. Everybody in the van cheered as they drove out of the school parking lot.

Mercedes, to Sam's dismay, sat next to Artie to see if he was comfortable.

"Are you sure you're fine back here?" she asked him as everyone else danced in their seats to the music playing on the radio. "Yeah yeah, I'm fine," Artie said grumpily, cleaning his glasses.

"These guys are really cool. You'll like them I promise," Mercedes told him reassuringly.

"I doubt that," Artie said. "Just give them a chance," Mercedes said, putting her hand on Artie's knee and smiling. Artie looked down at her hand then slowly into Mercedes' eyes.

Mercedes playfully stuck her tongue out at Artie, forcing him to smile back at her. "You're not as cute as you think you are," Artie said, putting his glasses back on.

Sam watched Mercedes and Artie. The kid was a geek, but there was no mistaking that he was a good-looking fellow. Sam didn't like that.

Sam moved to the front of the van in the passenger's seat.

**Sam**: Hey, you know that kid?

**Puck**: You don't know him? That's Arthur Abrams. I used to cheat off of him in elementary. He was always at the top of the class. Really athletic too.

**Sam**: What happened to him?

**Puck**: He got polio in fourth grade. It was a really bad strain. They had to shut down the whole school. They thought he was going to die, but he pulled through. Ever since, he's been in the chair. Rumor has it they used his blood to make the new vaccine.

**Sam**: Why is he so shady?

**Puck**: Well, how would you be if everyone knew you as the polio kid?

Sam looked over to Artie who sat tensely in the back of the van, constantly adjusting his glasses.

After passing the city of Dayton, the group stopped at a nearby lake to rest up and eat. Santana lay out on the picnic blanket, under the shade of a tree, while Kurt and Brittany went strolling. Mercedes and Tina had rolled up their pants and were soaking their feet in the lake. They would scream occasionally when Puck would splash them with water. Artie sat in his wheelchair watching them from the grass.

Sam took a seat on the bench next to Artie. "What sport was your favorite…before you know what," Sam asked, glancing over in Artie's direction, who was still staring at the girls playing.

"Basketball. I was really good in pee wee football but basketball was my favorite to play," Artie said, touching his legs. "I probably would have been All-American."

Sam scoffed, a cocky smirk appearing on his face. "I don't know about all that?" he said, stretching out his legs. Artie turned to Sam, eyeing him indignantly.

**Artie**: I would have dribbled circles around you country boy.

**Sam**: Hmph you seem kinda short to me.

**Artie**: I'm 5'8

**Sam**: Hmm that puts you about a whole three inches under me.

**Artie**: I'm only sixteen. My dad is 6'2

**Sam**: But how tall is your momma?

**Artie**: Don't be talkin bout my mom Evans

Santana had soon joined the girls in the water as Puck splashed them playfully. "Hey, what's going on up there?" Tina said, pointing toward the picnic tables.

Mercedes looked up ahead to find Sam pushing Artie into the bench, knocking some of the food over. Artie picked up an apple from the ground and threw it at Sam who ducked. With a big goofy smile on his face, Sam ran down towards the lake as Artie wheeled after him, still chucking food.

"RUUUNNN!" Sam exclaimed, running past the gang. Everybody laughed, watching Artie get Sam in the back of the head with a banana.

"Take that Nashville!" Artie yelled, laughing at Sam who tried to dodge the onslaught.

"No way! I wish I had a camera. Evans you fool!" Puck said, grabbing his ribs which were shaking lose from how hard he was laughing. Mercedes almost died when she saw the pudding run down Sam's face that Artie had hit him with.

"What are you laughing at?" Sam said, stepping into the water to teach his girlfriend a lesson. Mercedes screamed as Sam chased her.

* * *

Mercedes rubbed Sam's hair with a towel in the back of the van, while his shirt dried outside.

"You didn't have to push me in MJ," Sam said under the towel.

"Please. You think I was gonna let you touch me with that food all over you?" Mercedes said, moving the towel to Sam's neck. She giggled at the appearance of Sam's messy hair. His ears burned red. Mercedes smiled, touching the side of Sam's cheek with her thumb.

"Why are you so good to me Sam Evans?" Mercedes asked, as Sam closed his eyes at her touch.

"Because, I love your eyes and the way they sparkle when you smile," Sam said. Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"Sure Sure. That's why you're always looking at my lips right," Mercedes said accusingly to her boyfriend. "That's your fault," Sam said. "What!" Mercedes replied, pushing Sam playfully.

"It is! Every time you say something cute or smart, which is a lot, it makes me want to kiss you. That's your fault," Sam said, pulling Mercedes towards him. Sam placed a slow, chaste, kiss on Mercedes' lips.

"I love you Mercedes Jones," Sam whispered, holding his girlfriend in his arms.

Mercedes smiled. "That's nice, Sam. Now trying saying that with your shirt on," said Mercedes, placing towel back on Sam's head.

Sam collapsed on Mercedes shoulder. "God help me," Sam said, as Mercedes giggled. Puck, Santana, Tina, and Brittany just arrived back to the van, with the rest of the food and blankets. Kurt came in from the back, tossing Sam his shirt. Puck and Sam helped Artie back into the van.

* * *

"Wake up you dosey squares!" Puck yelled, waking up most of the group.

Night had already fallen as they entered downtown Columbus.

"Can we stop? I have to pee," Santana said, rubbing her eyes.

"I have to call my parents to see if they gave my cat his night laxitives," Brittany said, who had been drooling on a sleeping Kurt's shoulder for the past hour.

"Alright," Puck said, who pulled up to the curb. The gang got out to use the payphone, as Mercedes stayed in the van with Kurt.

"Hey, wake up," Mercedes said, gently shaking Kurt awake.

"Are we there yet?" Kurt asked, touching his hair to see if it was still standing up.

"Uh huh," Mercedes said, taking a seat next to him. Kurt instinctively put his arm around her.

When Sam finally got to use the phone he dialed Finn to ask him if he checked on his family. Sam knew his dad was out on the road and that his family was alone at the house. The phone rang twice before Finn picked it up.

**Finn**: Hello?

**Sam**: Finn buddy. It's Sam.

**Finn**: Where the hell are you guys?

**Sam**: Columbus. What's going on?

**Finn**: You haven't heard?

**Sam**: Heard what?

**Finn**: Dude, the police came to the school today

**Sam**: What happened?

**Finn**: You should know! It's your girlfriend's fault. The police will be at your house next. They just left mine.

...

Sam cleared his throat. Kurt and Mercedes turned around to see Sam standing behind them at the van's entrance.

"Kurt, could you give me and Mercedes a minute alone," Sam said. Kurt looked at Mercedes' face, who seemed equally as clueless as he was as to why Sam seemed upset.

"Sure," Kurt said, moving his arm away from Mercedes, leaving the van. Sam closed the door behind him. Sam didn't sit down.

"What's wrong?" Mercedes asked, bothered by Sam's silence.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked sternly.

"About what?" Mercedes asked.

"About the notes MJ" Sam said.

Mercedes' felt her heart sink. She rubbed her hand nervously. She had been avoiding this fight for so long and it was going to blow up in her face.

A million different excuses ran through her head as to why she didn't tell Sam about it, but none of them would suffice.

"I'm sorry Sam," Mercedes said.

"You should have told me," Sam told her.

Before Mercedes could open her mouth to explain, Sam turned around and stepped out of the bus. What Mercedes had to say, he didn't want to hear it. Puck was right. Sam was reckless and everyone, even Mr. Jones, knew it but him. Mercedes didn't trust him enough to tell him about the notes, because she knew he would only make things worse. It was like a gut punch to his ego.

Everyone, except for Sam, sat in the diner across from the concert hall. Mercedes, who couldn't bring herself to eat anything, just stared into her cup of hot chocolate.

"Damn, why is it so melancholy in here?" Puck asked. Mercedes' sadness and Sam's sulkiness seemed to have sucked out the joy in the group.

Kurt got up and went outside. Sam sat on the curb, watching cars pass by. Kurt took a seat next to him. "Here, drink the hot chocolate," Kurt said, passing Sam his mug.

"She told you about the notes didn't she," Sam said.

Kurt's silence answered his question.

"I made her tell me, if that makes you feel any better," Kurt said.

Sam shook his head. "Even if you hadn't, she would have told you before she told me," Sam said solemnly.

**Kurt**: We're very close.

**Sam**: If this is the part when you tell me you're in love with Mercedes, know that I will punch you in the face.

**Kurt**:{smugly} Not to worry. I like somebody else.

**Sam**: I know it's not Brittany. I can tell you're not as into her as she's into you

**Kurt**: You're smarter than you look

**Sam**: I get that a lot.

**Kurt**: Mercedes is in love with you Sam

**Sam**: …But does she want to be…

**Kurt**: I think she does.

Sam scoffed

**Sam**: MJ wants someone smart. Someone with a future. Do you know for a present, she gave me a book? A book the size of a dictionary. I suck at reading. She knows that.

Kurt smiled to himself, because he knew which book Sam was talking about. Kurt was at the store when Mercedes bought it. He knew she should have tried for something simpler. Kurt patted Sam on the knee.

**Kurt**: Just try and read it. You may like it.

By the time Kurt and Sam returned to the diner, a fight had broken out. Santana was cursing Puck out in Spanish, while Mercedes held her back.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked.

"Noah doesn't have the tickets," Tina said.

"What happened to them?" Sam asked.

"They never existed," Santana said, slumping into her seat angrily.

Puck shrugged his shoulders. "Badasses don't pay for admission. I figured we could sneak in," he said.

"There's eight of us you twat!" Santana said.

"So what happened to the money we gave you then?" Kurt said, folding his arms.

"Bought dip in Dayton," Puck said, hanging his head. Santana lunged at him again, but got held back by Mercedes and Tina.

"Let's not gang up on Noah," Tina said. "Let's think of what we can do."

"Tina's right," Mercedes said, looking at Sam who still seemed upset about their last encounter.

"I could make out with the doorman," Brittany said.

"You don't have to do that Britt," Mercedes replied.

"…But I want to," Brittany mumbled.

Everyone side-eyed Brittany before bringing their focus back to problem at hand.

"How much money do we have left Noah?" Santana asked.

"Five bucks," Puck answered glumly, as Tina rubbed his back maternally.

"That's enough for only one ticket," Kurt said.

"One ticket is all we need," Artie said. Everyone turned to look at him. He smiled, adjusting his glasses. "I got an idea."

* * *

Mercedes, Kurt, Sam, Puck, Brittany, Santana, and Tina stood in the line outside the music hall.

"We're gonna get caught," Kurt sang.

"Shut up," Santana hummed back quietly.

Mercedes' heart was beating a mile a minute, as she picked her fingers nervously. Sam, who was standing behind her, took her hand gently to calm her. He didn't say anything to her, but he could tell she needed it.

"How much longer?" Kurt asked, as they moved slowly up the line.

"Three minutes," Puck said, who tried to put his arms around Santana who elbowed him. "I need a cuddle!" Puck said. "SHHH!"

"Hey, don't I know you guys!"

The group turned around. There was a kid, around their age, with a slick back hair cut and flooded jeans standing behind them.

"No you don't," Santana said, turning her attention back to the line.

"Yeah I do! You're the kids from the newspaper! What's your name again. New Addresses?" the boy said excitedly.

"It's New Dire-," Noah almost said before Santana jabbed him in the ribs again.

"We're not them," Kurt said.

"No no no it is you guys! Hey it's those Lima kids from the newspaper!" the kid yelled, drawing more attention to the group.

"You guys are badass! Way to stick it to the man!" the kid said.

"Uh Thanks," Sam said politely, as Artie rolled to them from across the street.

"It's now guys! Now now now!" Puck whispered, as they spotted Artie.

"Well, nice to meet you," Sam said, shaking the kid's hand then turning back around.

Within the second, there was a huge crash. Artie tumbled out of his wheelchair and onto the pavement. A few screams erupted from the crowd.

"Oh my God! That poor boy just flipped out of his wheelchair!" a girl yelled, as the doorman and ticket taker rushed to see if Artie was conscious.

A crowd gathered around a seemingly passed out Artie. Artie's limp hand, quickly formed a thumbs up, giving Mercedes and the others the go to sneak in. As the crowd grew larger, the group of friends snuck in to the concert by the front door.

The Kinks were already playing.

"I can't believe that worked," Tina said, awestruck.

"I swear that kid is a legend," Puck said, taking off his jacket.

When Artie "came to," he handed his ticket to the doorman, who showed him into the concert.

* * *

Artie was the first to be dropped off when the group reached Lima around eleven o'clock. "A LOUIE LOUIE!" Artie sang with Puck as they pulled up to his house. They helped him out of the van. "You're seriously cool man," Puck said, high fiving Artie.

Mercedes wheeled Artie to his front steps. The lights were on in the house. She had called his parents earlier at the lake so they knew she had taken him.

"Hmm well you look like you had fun," Mercedes said smugly, looking down at Artie.

Artie rolled his eyes.

"It was okay," he admitted.

"Told you they were cool," Mercedes said.

"Are you going to gloat all night on my porch, or you going to let me go inside?" Artie said exasperatedly. Mercedes smiled. "Maybe," Mercedes said, bending over and kissing Artie on the cheek. "Happy Birthday Arthur Abrams," she whispered. Artie, who was surprised, stared blankly into Mercedes brown eyes. She chuckled and rustled his hair. With an even more smug look on her face, she turned to leave. Sam opened the van door for his girlfriend so she could climb back in.

"Mercedes!"

Mercedes turned around to find Artie still at the front door.

"…Thank you," Artie said.

"You're welcome!" Mercedes said, before closing the van door behind her.

* * *

Artie watched his new friends drive off into the night.

Sam was the last person to be dropped off. Not feeling sleepy yet, he went to the fridge to pour himself a glass of milk and eat a slice of meatloaf. As he sat there thinking about the memorable night, his thoughts traveled back to what he said to Kurt. Sam got up and went to his room. He reached under his bed for the book Mercedes bought him. She gave it to him the Sunday after the pep rally. She kissed him on the cheek, told him he was her hero, and handed it to him.

Sam heard the truck pull up outside. He went to the front door and watched his dad climb out of his truck.

"You back so soon?" Sam asked, opening the screen door for his dad. "Yep," Dwight Evans said, kissing his son on the cheek, and heading to the kitchen. Mr. Evans rubbed his aching back before taking a seat at the table.

Sam put a kettle on the oven for him.

"What's that in your hand?" Mr. Evans asked groggily, noticing the large book.

"A book," Sam said, handing to his dad.

"I can see that boy," Dwight said sarcastically, opening the front cover.

Dwight Evans looked at the book, then at Sam, then at the book again and smiled.

"Who gave you this?" he asked.

"Mercedes. I don't know how she expects me to read it though," Sam said, pouring his dad a cup of coffee.

Dwight held up the manuscript. "You know what this book is about?" he asked Sam. Sam shook his head. Dwight opened to the page that had a picture.

"The Lord of the Rings," Dwight said, pointing to the colorful map.

"This World War I soldier named John Tolkien wrote it bout ten years ago," said Dwight.

"It's about nine friends who set out on a yearlong journey to defeat this great evil. Now all these friends are different. Some are elves, one's a wizard, and they even speak different languages. But my favorite are the hobbits."

"Hobbits?" Sam said.

"Uh huh," Dwight Evans replied. "They're country folk. Not very book smart but they're clever enough to keep to themselves. But there's this hobbit that's the only one who can withstand the evil of this one ring, and he and his friends have to help him destroy it. Now mind you this is a much harder task than it sounds, because they have a whole army of people against them. Luckily, these country hobbits know how to take care of business. The main one in particular is Sam."

Sam looked up at his dad. Mr. Evans turned through the pages of the book, until he found the picture he was looking for. "Look, right there," he said, showing his son.

Sam looked at the drawing of the hobbit named Sam, with blonde matted hair, like his own, and matching green eyes.

"Samwise the Brave they called him. Everyone, even his friends, sold him short, except for the one person who he loved the most. And he ended up saving that person's life time and time again," Dwight said, watching his son look at the hobbit.

"It's a good book," Dwight said, getting up to go to bed.

"Daddy."

Dwight turned around to face his son.

"Yeah son?"

"Did they defeat the evil?" Sam asked.

Mr. Evans smiled. "Well, you're going to have to read it to find out won't you," he said smugly, going into his bedroom.

Sam looked back at the book, flipping through the pages. Every chapter or so, there was a map or more drawings, and even a glossary of the elvish language.

Sam closed the book and smiled to himself. "Samwise the Brave. Not bad," he said to himself.

Mercedes was just on the precipice of her dream when a plunking sound woke her up. She looked around to see nothing stirring in the dark. Then she heard it again. Her heart nearly fell out of her body when she saw someone at her window. She covered her mouth not to scream.

When she recognized it was Sam, she quickly went to the window, opening it quietly. "Sam Evans! What are you doing?" Mercedes whispered.

"Talking to you at your window," Sam replied, as if there was nothing odd about his behavior.

"How'd you get up here?" Mercedes asked. Sam, using his free hand, pointed to the tree two feet from him. "Let me in," he whispered.

Mercedes moved out of the way so Sam could climb in her room quietly.

"I don't know what you're up to Sam but-" Mercedes began before Sam grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into a kiss. When Mercedes tried to pull away, Sam tugged on the bottom of Mercedes' lip to bring their mouths back together. Mercedes moaned in his mouth.

"W-what's gotten into you?" Mercedes managed to breathe out, when Sam finally let her go.

"Let me be your hero," Sam said, holding Mercedes face in his hands. "You already are," Mercedes said, smiling up at her boyfriend.

"Good. Now I'm telling you with my shirt on _Le Melon MJ_" Sam said, making Mercedes laugh.

"Is that elvish?" Mercedes asked, as Sam nuzzled her neck.

"Melin ceni hin lîn síla i 'eladhach," Sam replied. Mercedes smiled to herself.

As Sam Evans held her in the dark, two definite things became indisputable to Mercedes Jones: One, Her boyfriend was a dork; and Two, whatever craziness tomorrow would bring, Samwise the Brave would be there.

* * *

Finn lay in Rachel's bed, with his arms wrapped around her.

"No one gets me like you do Rachel," Finn said, as they looked at the ceiling. "That's because I understand your potential," Rachel replied.

"What am I supposed to do about this stupid show choir business?" Finn said.

"Don't worry. I'll help you with everything. I'm a great leader," Rachel told him, kissing him on the cheek.

**To be continued…**


	8. Chapter 8

**New Directions: 1965 Lima, Ohio part 8**

**(Thank you for the nice reviews. lol sorry for the gloominess of this chapter. the next one will be much more fun. Please comment :D)**

"Would you say you have a temper problem Mr. Evans?"

Sam sat across from Detective Corcoran in a closed room with a desk and two chairs.

"I don't see how that's relevant," Sam said, narrowing his eyes at the female cop.

Detective Corcoran placed the file folder on the table.

"It is to me," she replied.

**Detective Corcoran: **You've been known to get rough with people

**Sam:** That's not true

**Detective Corcoran:** No? What about the fellow teammate you punched out last year. David Karofsky

**Sam:** He deserved it

**Detective Corcoran:** You threatened to kill Shane Tinsley. And before you deny it, remember half the football team saw you.

**Sam:** We were just talking.

**Detective Corcoran:** {smirk} You know Sam, I didn't really like you for this. After all, you are the golden boy aren't you. But there really isn't anything golden about you, is there Sam. See I did some digging. You've got quite an interesting family.

**Sam:** They have nothing to do with anything.

**Detective Corcoran:** On the contrary, Sam. They've got everything to do with it. As they say, like father, like son.

**Sam:** Are we done?

**Detective Corcoran: **You're probably too young remember, but then again you were nine when your father tried to burn your family alive

**Sam**: That's not what happened. I don't care what that file says, my father isn't crazy

**Detective Corcoran**: Yes he is, Sam. The court ruled your father criminally insane but the madness didn't end with your father did it Sam!

**Sam**: SHUT UP

**Detective Corcoran**: You're a sick person. You saved your girlfriend from a fire you started!

**Sam**: NO!

* * *

**ONE DAY EARLIER**

Mercedes watched as the warbler fell from the tree perch onto the autumn leaf covered ground. With tears in her eyes, Mercedes ran to the bird and scooped it up in her hands.

"We'll go away, I promise, just you and me," Mercedes said as she held the tiny bird in her hands. The bird lay motionless. A sound of a gunshot went off and Mercedes screamed.

The clap of the thunder from outside awoke Mercedes from her sleep. She touched the gold tags around her neck and breathed in. Mercedes went to the bathroom and washed her face. It was the same dream over and over again. It made no sense, obviously. But it still worried her.

Still touching her necklace, Mercedes got back into bed. She imagined Sam lying next to her. Something was coming. She just didn't know what it was.

Sam woke up drenched in sweat. He looked at his clock. 5am. Without putting on a shirt, he trudged to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water.

"Samuel, what's wrong?"

Mary Evans came out of the bedroom in her bathrobe. Sam took a seat at the table, while his mother put the kettle on.

"…Still can't sleep?" she asked.

Sam nodded. He sighed, holding his face in his hands. "She's gonna find out, Ma," Sam said.

"Darlin, you're just worried about that detective woman."

"And you aren't?" Sam said.

Mary Evans took a seat in the chair across from her son.

"Samuel Evans, look at me."

Sam looked up at his mom, who took his hands in hers.

"We have nothing to be ashamed of. I thank the Lord every day for you and your father. Not every boy could have done what you did at so young an age, Samuel. But you did. Mercedes will understand that," Mrs. Evans said.

"But what if she doesn't?" Sam said.

"You need to have a little faith baby," Mrs. Evans replied, getting up from the table. She pulled out the eggs from the refrigerator and started making breakfast.

* * *

The sound of birds singing woke Quinn up. The light from the window confirmed it was morning. Quinn reached out to touch her mom, but felt empty sheets. She slowly sat up.

"Mom!" she called out.

"In the kitchen sweetheart!" Mrs. Fabray called back.

When Quinn finally got dressed, she headed downstairs, where breakfast was waiting. Mrs. Fabray, who was already fully dressed in pearls and apron, poured Quinn her orange juice. Quinn sat down. "You're up early," Quinn said, taking a sip of the juice. Her mother just smiled, and went back into the kitchen to bring out the pancakes.

"Your father called," she said.

Quinn put her glass down, immediately losing her appetite.

"Did he. What did he want?" Quinn asked, attempting to sound mildly interested.

"He said he was coming over," Mrs. Fabray said, a smile appearing on her face.

"Hm, his whore won't mind?" Quinn asked dryly.

"Watch your tongue young lady!" Mrs. Fabray snapped, setting the pancakes down in front of her daughter. "Now I want you to sleep in your own room tonight."

Quinn narrowed her eyes at her mother. "Why?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. Mrs. Fabray didn't reply.

"You know he's just going to go back to her," Quinn said angrily.

"I know no such thing. She may be young, but we are still his family, and he loves us. I know he's coming back to stay, I just know it," Mrs. Fabray said, almost to herself.

Quinn shook her head. It'd been three months since she found out about her father's mistress and one month since he started staying over at her place. But to everyone on the outside, the Fabrays were still the perfect family. They all still went to church together on Sundays and attended the city hall annual picnics. But it was slowly eating Quinn on the inside.

"Mom…he could be coming over to ask for a divorce," Quinn said.

"Don't even think that sweetheart," Mrs. Fabray told her. "You just have to keep the faith. Everything will work out I promise."

"Okay mom," Quinn said, not wanting to push the conversation any further. She took a bite of her pancakes.

"So how's that football star boyfriend of yours? I haven't seen him around," Mrs. Fabray asked.

Quinn felt some congestion rise in her chest. "He's fine mom," Quinn said, giving a soft smile.

"You excited about today? I just know you're going to make such a beautiful homecoming queen, just like your sister," Mrs. Fabray said, touching Quinn's hair.

"Uh huh. I better get going, mom," Quinn said, getting up from the table.

"But you barely touched your breakfast," Mrs. Fabray said.

Quinn hugged her mom. "Stay strong okay. I'll see you tonight," Quinn said, letting go.

* * *

A horn honked outside. Mercedes jumped up from the breakfast table.

"And where do you think you're going?" Mr. Jones asked, watching his daughter down a glass of orange juice before checking her hair.

"School Daddy," Mercedes replied, smoothing out her skirt. "Sam is taking me."

"Oh no he's not," Mr. Jones replied. "You know the rules Mercedes."

"I know, but Daddy you're sick and I've already missed the bus. Someone has to take me," Mercedes reasoned. Mr. Jones sucked his teeth, unable to refute his daughter's logic.

Mr. Jones scoffed, raising his newspaper.

"A real man would come to the door-"

A loud knock on the door interrupted Mr. Jones' rip into his daughter's new boyfriend.

"Good morning Mr. Jones," Sam said politely, when Mercedes let him in.

"Mornin," Mr. Jones grumbled.

"Feel better daddy," Mercedes said, quickly kissing her father goodbye.

"Bye sir!" Sam said, holding the door open so Mercedes could walk out before him.

"Bye… you bleached blond knucklehead," Mr. Jones said, mumbling the last part.

Sam helped Mercedes into the truck, before entering from the driver's side. When Sam shut the car door, he leaned over to kiss Mercedes only to see her father scowling from the window. Wisely he reconsidered the idea and started the car engine.

When Sam reached Main Street, he noticed Mercedes slowly inching down her seat.

"Mercedes, what are you doing?" Sam asked, as Mercedes slowly peaked out of the window.

"Nothin," Mercedes replied, still slumping in her seat.

Sam chuckled.

"You know everybody knows you're my girl right," Sam said.

"Not everybody. I just don't see the point in parading our relationship to the whole town," Mercedes told Sam.

Sam slowed the truck down until they were moving at a snail pace.

"Sam! What're you doing?" Mercedes exclaimed, slumping even more in her seat.

"Taking my sweet time," Sam said with a smirk.

"Sam! Will be late for school!" Mercedes begged.

"Let's be late," Sam replied, who had even begun to wave at the townsfolk outside.

With a big exasperated groan, Mercedes sat back up straight in her seat so Sam would stop trying to embarrass her and drive at normal speed.

"There now, don't you feel better sitting properly?" Sam said smugly.

Mercedes shook her head.

"See what your problem is, you think you get away with everything. But just wait Sam Evans. That cute smile will only take you so far. When you're old and balding, that charm won't get you anywhere," Mercedes said.

"You think we'll last as long as all that?" Sam said with a smirk.

Mercedes rolled her eyes.

* * *

Mercedes waited for Kurt outside of his first period class.

When he saw her, he smiled, immediately easing her worries.

The two friends walked side by side down the hall.

**Mercedes**: How was it? I tried calling you last night

**Kurt**: {sighing} It was harder than I thought, but I'm okay. Detective Corcoran is pretty tough. At one point, I thought she was going to ask to see the burn marks on my ass.

**Mercedes**: I'm so sorry, Kurt.

**Kurt**: Don't be. I'm glad they are reopening the case. Whoever burned down Roosevelt needs to pay, and I don't care who it is.

**Mercedes**: Santana's and Sam's are supposed to meet with her tomorrow.

**Kurt**: Why are they interviewing Santana? She wasn't even there.

**Mercedes**: Neither was Finn, but they did him last week. I wonder why she wants to talk to him

**Kurt**: I don't know… Are you worried at all about Sam?

**Mercedes**: A little. I just don't want him trying to fight Shane. Why do you ask?

**Kurt**: … I mean, you at one point, suspected him so…

**Mercedes**: I was paranoid and sleep deprived Kurt.

**Kurt**: So are cops.

**Mercedes**: It doesn't matter. He saved our lives. Detective Corcoran probably just wants to shake his hand.

**Kurt**: …Yeah probably. Sam is an odd one.

**Mercedes**: Well, because of him, you're a cool kid now with a cheerleader girlfriend.

**Kurt**: But I never would have joined the show choir if not for you.

**Mercedes**: Don't thank me yet. Let's just hope our new captain doesn't make too many changes.

**Kurt**: No way. Finn's a pretty nice guy

**Mercedes**: …I don't like him

**Kurt**: Well that's a bit problematic seeing as he's Sam's best friend.

**Mercedes**: I'm not saying he's a bad person. Just something about him rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it's because of the whole Quinn and Rachel thing.

"Hello wonderful friends!" Santana sang sweetly as she bumped into Kurt and Mercedes in the hallway.

"Are you high?" Kurt asked, as Santana wore a big smile on her face.

"Oh, Kurt I do love your rapier wit," Santana replied.

Mercedes smiled and rolled her eyes. "She's just happy cause Homecoming ballots open today," she explained to Kurt.

"Yes ma'am, and you're looking at McKinley's soon-to-be homecoming Queen," Santana said, handing them each a vote-for-Santana button.

"What makes you think you're going to win?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow.

Santana scoffed as if the answer was blatantly obvious.

"One, I'm the hottest candidate running, two I have half the school vote thanks to Roosevelt, and three I'm in the hippest new singing group," Santana said, handing a passing student a campaign button.

"Sorry I questioned you, your highness," Kurt said sarcastically.

"You're forgiven peasant. Now be a good dear and pass out some of these buttons," Santana said, handing them the basket. Kurt and Mercedes watched as Santana scooted off to her next class.

* * *

"Is it possible disdain should die while he hath such meet food to feed it as Seignior Benedick? Courtesy itself convert to disdain, if you come in her presence."

Artie stared at Mercedes' mouth as it curved into a smile. This was his favorite part of the day, where they would read Shakespeare, and Mercedes would read opposite him. He never quite knew what she was saying, because he would zone out two minutes in and just watch her monologue.

"Artie…it's your turn."

Artie snapped out of it.

"What? Oh um. Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted, and I would find in my heart that I had a hard heart; for, truly, I love none."

Mercedes flipped her hair. Artie smiled as Mercedes turned into fierce Lady Beatrice once more. She was a natural.

"A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubles with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humor for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than hear a man swear he loves me," Mercedes quoted before giving into a fit of giggles.

"Artie, It's your turn," Mercedes said.

Mercedes sighed exasperatedly, when Artie realized he lost his page. "You don't like this play either? I can't have you failing European Literature because of me," she said.

"No, no… I like this one," Artie said.

"Do you want to go over the lines again?" Mercedes asked.

Artie was looking Mercedes' up and down, ignoring her question.

"So…why aren't you running?" Artie asked Mercedes out of nowhere.

Mercedes raised her eyebrow. "Me? For Homecoming Queen?"

"Yeah, I mean you wouldn't you get just as many votes from the Roosevelt students as Santana would?" Artie asked.

**Mercedes**: Probably not. Santana was pretty popular at Roosevelt. She was Prom Queen junior year. And…well…you know

**Arte**: And I know what?

**Mercedes**: She's perfect

**Artie**: Sure, besides the fact that she's a shepherd for the devil

**Mercedes**: No she's not

**Artie**: How did you two become friends anyway?

**Mercedes**: Well, we always lived close to each other. Our dads are both doctors. But we didn't really hang out till later in high school. I started dating jock Shane Tinsley and he and Santana hung out in the same circles. None of his other friends really accepted me but she did. Then after Shane and I broke up, we were still friends.

**Artie**: You know what I think?

**Mercedes**: No, but I'm sure you'll tell me

**Artie**: I think Santana needs you more than you need her.

**Mercedes**:{sarcastically} Sure she does.

**Artie**: She may be popular, but you're only real friend she has.

**Mercedes**: That's not because no one likes her. She just has a hard time trusting people. You're the same.

**Artie**: So you think you two would still be friends if you became her competition?

**Mercedes**: of course.

**Artie**: Hm I don't know about that.

**Mercedes: **Do your classwork boy.

Mercedes opened her book, ignoring Artie. But his words stuck with her even after the class period ended. Being competition with Santana didn't worry her. Their friendship withstood worse things that high school popularity. The truth was, she was dreading the Homecoming dance. There was a good chance she'd have to watch Sam be crowned with somebody else. She wasn't necessarily jealous, but it would just be another reminder of how different the two of them were, and how different the world saw them.

* * *

"Good pass!" the coach yelled to Sam, who jogged back to the bench.

Sam took a seat next to Puck who was gulping down some water. "You're on fire today buddy," Puck said. When Sam didn't reply Puck tried to see what was stealing his friend's attention. Shane stood thirty feet away from them on the sidelines. Puck elbowed Sam, breaking his concentration.

"Don't try it man. He's bigger than you," Puck said to him, passing Sam some water.

"I just want to talk to him," Sam said, still watching Shane.

"MJ said leave him alone," Puck told Sam.

Sam stood up and started walking over to Shane. "You don't want a black eye for Homecoming!" Puck called to Sam, but Sam was done listening. Puck quickly followed Sam for backup.

Shane raised an eyebrow at Sam coming towards him, before turning his attention back to the scrimmage on the field.

"Hey Shane. Can I talk to you?" Sam said sternly.

"What," Shane replied, who had no interest in talking to Sam.

"I know you heard about the police coming to the school," Sam said.

"And," Shane said.

"Well then you probably know about the notes in Mercedes' locker," Sam continued.

Shane scoffed, a small smile appearing on his face. "Karma's a bitch isn't it," he said.

"Did you write them or not!" Sam said, lunging at Shane. Puck held him back. Shane laughed. "And what if I did? What're you going to do about it white boy?" Shane asked, turning to Sam.

"I swear to God if you did-" Sam said, still trying to get loose from Puck's grip on his arms.

"You'll what?" Shane said. "I'm not afraid of you Evans"

The coach blew the whistle for the offensive team to come back on the field. Puck let go of Sam.

"Stay away from my girlfriend," Sam said. Shane narrowed his eyes at Sam.

"Like you stayed away from mine?" Shane replied before putting his helmet back on. Sam and Puck watched as Shane trudged back onto the field.

Sam kicked the cooler over.

* * *

"Finn, Finn!" Quinn called, catching up to her boyfriend in the hallway.

"Oh, hey," Finn said tensely. Finn was always awkward to Quinn, but she had gotten used to it by now.

"Where have you been?" Quinn asked.

**Finn**: Oh um, around.

**Quinn**: I haven't seen you all week.

**Finn**: Well I was suspended.

**Quinn**: Were you suspended from your telephone, cause I've been calling you every night. I left messages with your mom.

**Finn**: Really? Well uh, my mom probably forgot to tell me. She can be like that sometimes.

Quinn slowly put her arms around Finn. Finn was somewhat surprised, since Quinn was not the affectionate type. Finn hugged Quinn back, pulling her in. She really needed this. She could feel it in her heart that her dad was not coming back home, no matter how hard her mother believed or how hard she prayed. Quinn leaned her face against Finn's chest and breathed in, only for her nostrils to be filled with a perfume she knew wasn't hers. Her eyes started to swell with tears. She quickly sniffed them back up before pulling away, mustering a soft smile on her face.

**Quinn**: So um, Homecoming is just around the corner

**Finn**: Yeah. Don't be surprised if you get crowned next to Sam and not me

**Quinn**: Don't be silly. It wouldn't be worth it if you weren't my king.

**Finn**: …Right

**Quinn**: Is something wrong?

**Finn**: …Are you okay? You seem

**Quinn**: What?

**Finn**: Emotional

Quinn chuckled. "I guess I do," Quinn said. Finn rocked back and forth on his heels. "I'll see you later?" Quinn asked. "Sure," Finn said, leaning down to kiss his girlfriend on the cheek. "Finn…Do…Do you have anything you want to tell me?" Quinn asked, just when Finn was about to walk away. Finn looked deeply in Quinn's eyes. He was unusually focused. "No," Finn said. Quinn felt as if she had been gut punched. He must have practiced that many times. "Okay. I love you," Quinn told him. "I love you too," Finn said.

* * *

"Eyes front everyone!" Mr. Schuester said. He had a paper in his hand and goofy smile on his face.

Everyone in the choir room stopped fooling around. Mercedes playfully nudged Sam who was whispering some elven in her ear.

"I just got out of a meeting with Principal Figgins, who has just given us our schedule for the fall," Mr. Schuester said. Everyone applauded.

"When is our next performance?" Tina asked.

"We actually won't be performing till after the photo-shoot," Mr. Schuester said casually.

Everyone stopped chattering. "…Photo-shoot?" Mercedes repeated.

"That's right! Our first appearance will be tomorrow morning at the mayor's office where we will take pictures. Then we have an afternoon costume fitting-," Mr. Schuester began.

**Mike Chang**: Wait, we are going to miss school?

**Mr. Schuester**: No worries, Figgins already informed your teachers.

**Puck**: Alright!

**Mike Chang**: I don't know if my father will be okay with that

**Mr. Schuester**: I'm sure we can reason with him, as long as it doesn't interfere with your studies.

**Mercedes**: Wait, I thought I was making the costumes.

**Rachel**: We're famous now, Mercedes. We want to look our best.

**Mercedes**: My costumes aren't raggedy Rachel.

**Mr. Schuester**: Mercedes, we don't want you getting overwhelmed with making the costumes and helping with choreography, so we hired a seamstress costumer. You still have creative control. You can discuss with her how you want the ladies to look okay?

**Santana**: Not okay! I'm still trying to campaign for Homecoming court. I never thought I'd say this, but I want to be at school tomorrow.

**Mr. Schuester**: We won't be gone the whole day. You'll still have time to campaign Santana

**Sam**: I can't go. I have to go down to the police station to give testimony about the fire.

**Mr. Schuester**: Well, we aren't singing tomorrow, so you're off the hook. But we have to be 100% devoted to this group, or it's not going to work.

Everyone looked around at each other. None of them had expected so much pressure so early in the start of their singing group. But whether they wanted to be or not, they were role models now, and the whole town was watching.

Sam took Mercedes' hand, smiling down at her. She smiled back, knowing what he was thinking. "Don't worry Mr. Schuester, we won't let you down," Mercedes said. "Here, here!" Puck yelled as everyone clapped in response. Kurt winked at Mercedes who smiled back.

"Let's just go over the music real quick. Tina, you ready?" Mercedes asked, letting go of Sam's hand, so she could pass out the song.

Rachel cleared her throat.

"Umm, actually I had something to say about the song," Finn said suddenly.

"It's uh…not really sitting well with me," Finn said. Santana rolled her eyes. Mercedes snorted softly and smiled. "Okay…Well, what do you not like about it?" Mercedes asked.

"It's lacking that Broadway finesse," Rachel interjected. Everyone, save Finn, narrowed their eyes in confusion as to why Rachel was talking.

"Well, it's an R&B song so there wouldn't be that much Broadway in it to begin with," Mercedes said, a confused smile still on her face.

"Well, I already picked out a new song," Finn said, taking out sheet music from his book bag. He started passing it out to the others.

"It's Gershwin," Rachel said.

"We are a show choir after all, we should do show tunes here and there," Mr. Schuester said, handing the music to Brad the piano man.

"Yeah, but we got popular by doing popular music," Kurt said.

"Well, we aren't trying to prove anything to anyone anymore, so we can try this music now," Finn said. Everyone looked at Mercedes. A power struggle was being formed.

Everyone remained quiet. "Okay then, you're the captain now Finn," Mercedes said, before turning back to Tina. "Are you okay with singing Gershwin, Tina?" Mercedes asked.

Before Tina could respond, Finn interrupted again. "Actually, I was thinking it would be best if Rachel sang the lead," Finn said. "She's been singing show tunes for a long time, and it would lessen the learning curve for getting the song ready for our next performance."

Mercedes wasn't smiling anymore, nor was anyone else for that matter. "We drew names last week on the order of who would sing lead at each performance. It's Tina's turn. Rachel isn't till after me and Santana," Mercedes said.

"I know that, but circumstances have changed," Finn said.

"Because you changed them!" Mercedes snapped back.

Finn looked at Rachel then back to Mercedes with his chest swollen. "I'm the captain, which means I pick the song," Finn said.

"That may be so, but you don't pick who gets to sing it," Mercedes told him. She turned to Mr. Schuester.

"If Tina thinks she can sing the song-" Mr. Schuester began.

"She can't!" Rachel said.

"How would you know?!" Santana said.

"Tina has a lovely voice, but she doesn't have the vocal training I do," Rachel explained.

"Yeah we all know about that training, deep throat," said Santana.

"Don't talk about her like that," Finn said.

"Why not? It's not like she's your girlfriend, though you are her biggest client aren't you big boy" Santana replied, winking at Finn.

"Enough!" Mr. Schuester said.

"Look, it's Tina's turn to sing lead," Mercedes said.

"No, it's alright. Rachel can sing the song better than I can," Tina said.

"You don't know that," Mercedes said.

"She can have the lead," Tina said.

Everyone looked back to Mercedes. Sam had been correct. Even though the titles had been changed, the majority looked to Mercedes for leadership. She rolled her eyes.

"…If Tina is fine with it, so am I," Mercedes said. Santana scoffed, folding her arms.

"Alright then, guys," Mr. Schuester said, going over to the piano. "Rachel, from the top!" Mr. Schuester said.

* * *

Santana filed her nails in the back of the public library as Mercedes stacked the books.

**Mercedes**: You feel like getting ice cream after I finish?

**Santana**: Sure, as long as I get to dump it over Finn Hudson's head. Him and that midget were about to get the Puerto Rican smack down

**Mercedes**: Babe you gotta leave that girl alone

**Santana**: Come on! Don't tell me you didn't want to go all Lima Heights on her

**Mercedes**: I don't like to fight

**Santana**: Heifer please! I know how you snatched that Samantha bitch in the locker room.

**Mercedes**: You heard about that?!

**Santana**: {smirking} Everybody did. Not to mention she had that bald patch in her head for a week.

**Mercedes**: {laughing} She started the fight by stealing my clothes though.

**Santana**: Well Rachel started the fight by stealing Tina's solo

**Mercedes**: But Tina said it was okay.

**Santana**: You think that's the only solo she wants? She wants all our solos, Mercedes. Hell she'd sing the back up to her own lead if she could

**Mercedes**: Look, I don't like her either. But I can't fight Finn on this. Tina is our friend and group member and she wants Rachel to have the part. We have to respect her decision.

**Santana**: Even if it opens Pandora's box?

**Mercedes**: Hey now, are we not still the divas of Roosevelt?

**Santana**: Of course we are

**Mercedes**: And since when do the divas share solos?

**Santana**: Never

**Mercedes**: And as long as we keep that standard, Rachel or Finn will never be able to push us around.

**Santana**: Fine whatever. But the minute you let Rachel walk over you, I'm revoking your diva license.

**Mercedes**: Deal. Can we get chocolate mint ice cream?

**Santana**: Sure, let's invite Kurt so he can drive us. I don't want to ruin my heels

**Mercedes**: Well, you're going to have to live with those scuff marks girl. He's on a date with Brittany

**Santana**: What's up with them? I mean does Kurt really like her?

**Mercedes**: Maybe. I guess she's his type.

**Santana**: And how do you feel about that?

**Mercedes**: {clearing her throat} Fine. He's happy, and that's all that matters.

**Santana**: Uh huh right. Obviously, he's using her to be popular

**Mercedes**: like you've never done that?

**Santana**: At least I'm honest about it! Brittany still thinks Kurt is light-skinned.

**Mercedes**: {chuckling} Well at least we know she likes black people.

**Santana**: True. As long as she stays out of my way for Homecoming, we're good.

**Mercedes**: You and this Homecoming Santana

**Santana**: What?

**Mercedes**: Why do you want it so badly?

**Santana**: My rep is all I have. If I'm not Queen Bee who am I?

**Mercedes**: Santana. You don't have to prove anything to anyone girl.

**Santana**: You wouldn't understand.

**Mercedes**: I guess not

* * *

Sam, Finn, Mike and Puck sat in the burger joint on Main street.

"We are going to be so ace this Friday. Riverside High doesn't stand a chance," Finn said, playing with the football in his hands.

"Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" Mike asked.

"That's harsh dude. Mrs. Avery isn't that big," Puck replied.

"What? No. I'm talking about Finn and Rachel," Mike said.

"What? We're just friends," Finn said.

The three other guys scoffed.

"We all know you're making it with her," Sam said, eating some fries.

"Look, if you want some tail on the side, it's groovy dude, but you can't be letting her control you," Puck said.

"She's not controlling me," Finn said.

"She's using you like a cheap wash rag," Mike said.

"Damn that was cold Mike, but he's right Finn," said Puck. "You gotta keep these ladies in check, or they'll run all over you."

"You're just upset because you've been trying to make it with Santana and she won't give you any," Finn said.

"Hey, I'm the player out of everyone here. If I wanted it, I could get it," Puck said.

"Don't fool yourself Puck. You've lost your game. You can't even get it from a colored girl," Finn told him with a smirk.

"Neither can you, you pasty ass bastard," Puck replied.

"Keep cool, guys," Mike said.

"Mike's right. Chill out," Sam replied.

Finn smirked, sipping his drink.

"The fact of the matter is I'm the only one at this table that's getting any, so I don't know why you're trying to judge," Finn said.

"Nonsense, Sam is getting plenty, aren't you Sam?" Mike said.

Sam choked on his pop.

"Well, uh, we're waiting," Sam said, as Mike patted him on the back.

"Naw man, YOU'RE waiting. SHE'S just not giving," Finn said.

"Hey, if I wanted an easy girl, I'd have one. Simple as that," Sam told Finn.

Finn folded his arms, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

"So everything's just fine with you and her? No problems? No SECRETS of any kind."

"That's enough Finn," Sam said.

"…Did I miss something?" Mike asked, as Finn and Sam stared each other down.

Sam was unmistakably giving Finn the don't-say-one-more-word look.

"It's nothing," Finn said, catching the hint.

* * *

"Mercedes you look hot," Santana said, as she straightened Mercedes' wig.

It was the next day and all the girls were wearing matching half up –half down beehive hair do's for the photo-shoot at the mayor's office.

"Kurt, why are you pouting?" Tina asked, as a woman sprayed her beehive with hairspray.

"Because he wants a wig too," Santana whispered to Mercedes, who elbowed her.

"How was it this morning with the detective?" Mercedes asked Santana.

Santana's face became a little flushed before she smiled. "It was fine," Santana replied, before quickly going over to Puck.

Mercedes turned her attention to Kurt, who was sitting in a chair, wearing a melancholy face.

"What're you looking at?" Mercedes asked, as she walked over to Kurt.

She looked in the direction of where he was looking. Not far off, Finn was whispering something in Rachel's ear.

Mercedes scoffed. Kurt sighed.

"I want someone to love me like that," Kurt said.

"No you don't. I would never wish that kind of relationship on anyone," Mercedes said with a chuckle.

Kurt pulled Mercedes on to his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Aww Kurt," Mercedes said maternally, patting Kurt on the shoulder.

"Mercedes… Do you love him more than you love me?" Kurt asked.

"Him who?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt leaned his head on Mercedes' shoulder.

"Sam."

Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"I like you and Sam in two different ways," Mercedes replied.

Kurt moved his head, looking into Mercedes' eyes.

"That's not true though…is it," Kurt said softly.

Mercedes smiled to mask the sudden acceleration in her heart beat.

"Kurt," Mercedes said sweetly. "That was a long time ago."

"I don't remember you breaking Sam's car window like you did mine," Kurt said.

"I don't remember him ever breaking my heart like you did," Mercedes replied with a smirk, making Kurt smile finally.

"I never apologized… for the way I treated you sophomore year," Kurt said. Mercedes shook her head. "It's okay. You told me the truth and now we are happier for it. Sam is crazy, but he's good to me. And you have Brittany now so-"

"I don't love Brittany," Kurt said, interrupting Mercedes.

Mercedes' pulse continued to increase, but she still continued to smile through it all.

"Kurt…why are you telling me this?" Mercedes said nervously.

"…I know I can't be the man you want, but that doesn't mean I don't care about what happens to you. I know you're with Sam, but I've always been your protector-"

"Kurt! What the hell are you trying to say?" Mercedes said, getting exasperated by Kurt's odd behavior. Mercedes got off of Kurt's lap, turning around to face him.

"Do you know something about Sam?" Mercedes asked when Kurt did not reply.

Kurt rubbed his eyebrow and nodded.

Mercedes' skin started to feel like it didn't belong to her.

"Is it about the fire?" Mercedes said.

Kurt nodded again.

* * *

Sam ran down Main Street. He didn't care that he left the truck at the police station. It didn't matter; nothing mattered. After two miles of sprinting, Sam barely felt winded. When he reached the nearest tree he kicked the bark before collapsing on the grass in the park. He covered his head with his letterman jacket. He lay sprawled on the ground like a child. Two years down the drain. He'd have to start all over.

The park was unusually quiet. Everyone was still at work or school. Sam sat up, wiping his nose with the arm sleeve his jacket. He exhaled, leaning against the tree.

Sam let himself get drowned in the current predicament.

His mom's voice entered his head.

"Have a little faith."

The encouraging words reminded him of the first time he ever saw Mercedes Jones. His mom dragged him to church on what was one of the worst days of his life. He sat in the pew pissed an annoyed. And then an angel with a sweet voice appeared. Sam tried to talk to her after the service but was sideswiped by Rachel who had followed his family to church.

Of course Mercedes doesn't remember Sam being in the congregation that Sunday, nor does she know what he was going through at the time. But Sam remembered everything, exactly what she said, what she wore, what song she sang, because it was one of those moments when he realized what kind of man he wanted to be.

The fond memory gave Sam the strength to finally get up from the ground. He stuck his hand in his pockets, and walked towards home, humming the song Mercedes sang to him the first time they met.

_"…Why should I be discouraged and why should the shadows fall?  
Why should my heart be lonely and long for heaven and home?  
When Jesus is my portion, my constant Friend is He,  
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me…"_

* * *

"Gather around everyone, I want to make a quick congrats today on the success of today's photo shoot with the mayor. I'm so proud of all of you," Mr. Schuester said.

Everyone stood in the choir room and clapped. They had already changed back into their school garments before heading back to campus.

"That's great, Mr. Schue, but can we hurry this up so we can check and see who got nominated for Homecoming Court?" Santana said.

"Alright Santana. And a quick thank you to our new captain Finn, who without, we'd still only have four members."

Everyone clapped again.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," Finn began. "I can't wait to lead you guys in our next successful perf-"

What happened next was somewhat of a blur. Rachel was on the floor holding her nose. Blood gushed onto the floor. Quinn was being held back by Puck while her feet were flying in the air for release.

Everyone stood dumbfound at the scene in front of them.

"A NOTE FINN! YOU BROKE UP WITH ME WITH A NOTE IN MY DAMN LOCKER!?" Quinn yelled, still trying to get lose.

"Quinn… I'm so sorry," Finn said. "I didn't know how to tell you."

"You were the most popular boy in school and you threw it away on a leach like Rachel Berry!" Quinn said.

"All you cared about was being homecoming queen, Quinn. You never cared about me," Finn said.

Saying this only made Quinn angrier.

"You idiot, I was already head cheerleader when we met! You were a chunky, pimply loser! If all I cared about was the crown, I would have dumped you then instead of making you into the guy you are now. You know what. I'm done."

Puck let go of her. Quinn fixed her cheerio uniform.

"I refuse to cry over you. I'm not going to fight for a man that doesn't love me," Quinn said. "I guess I'll see you and Rachel at the Homecoming Court party."

Quinn left the choir room.

"Wait…Rachel got nominated?" Santana said.

"Finn and I were secretly campaigning together. It's important that the faces of McKinley's show choir be represented," Rachel said, while pinching her nose to stop the bleeding.

Santana ran outside to find the Ballot board. The other members followed her.

"What the Fuck!" Santana said, reading the list of names.

**Homecoming Court of Class of 1966**

_Sam Evans  
__Finn Hudson  
__Kurt Hummel  
__Dave Karofky  
__Noah Puckerman  
__Shane Tinsley_

_Rachel Berry  
__Quinn Fabray  
__Santana Lopez  
__Mercedes Jones  
__Brittany Pierce  
__Samantha Simms_

"Mercedes, you split my vote!" Santana said, turning on Mercedes.

"What? I didn't campaign!" Mercedes said, looking at the list in disbelief.

"You had to put your name on the ballot for people to vote for you," Santana said accusingly.

"I didn't do it. Kurt?" Mercedes asked.

"Don't look at me," Kurt said.

"Look, we can share," Mercedes said calmly.

"Divas don't share remember," Santana retorted.

"Look Santana, you're still going to win," Mercedes said reassuringly.

"No I'm not! All I had was Homecoming Queen and you took that away! You and your stupid psychopath boyfriend ruined everything!" Santana exclaimed.

"He's not a psychopath!" Mercedes said.

"Yes he is! His dad is a fugitive and an arsonist. That's why they live in a rickety trailer home," said Santana.

"I-I don't believe you," Mercedes said.

"Tell her Kurt!" Santana said.

Mercedes turned around to face Kurt.

"It's true. Detective Corcoran told us," Kurt said.

"How could you not tell me?" Mercedes said.

"She said not to," Kurt admitted.

Forgetting show choir practice, Mercedes left the school and went to the public library. She sat on the outside steps, playing with the gold dog tags in her hand.

At this point, Mercedes was past tears. She was stuck in realm somewhere between regret and disbelief. She went over a thousand times in her head, over and over again, of everything Sam Evans ever said to her, every look he gave her, every kiss they shared. Nothing pointed to insanity. Yes, he was reckless and occasionally angry but she never bothered to understand why.

Mercedes thought back to every experience she shared with his family. Every talk and embrace. Now she felt stupid for never asking why they were so poor. Then another thought overtook the other. Is that why Sam never wanted her to see what happened to his house? Because he didn't want Mercedes talking to the police?

"Stop it," Mercedes said, rubbing her forehead.

"I can't think about this now," she told herself, getting up.

* * *

Mercedes knocked on the front door.

A middle-aged white woman with blonde hair opened it.

"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong place," she began.

"Does Quinn Fabray live here?" Mercedes asked.

A confused look formed on Mrs. Fabray's face.

"Uh, hold on one moment. Quinnie honey!" she called.

Mercedes heard lazy footsteps, then Mrs. Fabray disappeared behind the door. She seemed to be muttering to someone.

"There's a colored girl here to see you," Mercedes heard Mrs. Fabray whispered worriedly.

Quinn's head popped in view of the entrance. She rolled her eyes, and opened the door to let Mercedes in.

"Umm, Quinn darling, maybe we should talk for a minute," Mrs. Fabray said sweetly.

"Oh for God's sakes Mother it's just a friend from school!" Quinn said exasperatingly, closing the door after Mercedes entered the foyer.

"Hi ma'am, I'm Mercedes Jones," Mercedes said sweetly.

"Oh, well very nice to meet you Mercedes," Mrs. Fabray replied as nicely as she could.

Quinn gave her mother the leave-us-alone-look.

"Well, I'll be in the kitchen," Mrs. Fabray said, leaving the foyer.

"Come on. We can talk in my room," Quinn said.

Mercedes followed Quinn up the stairs to her room. When Mercedes entered, she was blindsided by the pictures of Quinn and the multiple trophies.

Mercedes took a seat in a chair by the study desk, while Quinn sat on her bed across from Mercedes.

Quinn combed her hair with her fingers. It was wet and curly. From her appearance, Mercedes could tell she had just gotten out of the bath. Her eyes were blotchy and without make-up, and she was wearing pajamas.

"So, what do you want," Quinn said.

**Mercedes**: I'm kind of having one of those days, where I don't really want to concentrate on my own problems.

**Quinn**: So, you want to stick your nose in mine. How sweet of you.

**Mercedes**: Just so you know, you're the one who busted in on my club's practice. So I didn't really have to nose into your business.

**Quinn**: Fair enough.

**Mercedes**: So, how are you?

**Quinn**: Pissed, mostly at myself.

**Mercedes**: Men will do that to you.

**Quinn**: God, I hate Rachel. I wish I could have gotten another hit on her before Puck pulled me off.

**Mercedes**: Finn didn't even help her. Some gentleman he is.

**Quinn**: He could have picked any girl he wanted, and out of all of them, he had to choose her. He knows I can't stand her.

**Mercedes**: But is that really why you're mad? Because he picked Rachel?

**Quinn**: I…just never thought he'd leave me. Damn, I'm just like my mother. My whole life I said I would never be with a man who would keep me by the phone waiting for him. I thought I was so clever picking Finn, because he was kind and humble. I thought if anyone would appreciate me, he would. But boys grow up to be unfaithful men. You know, it didn't occur to me that I was dating an exact replica of my father till a week ago? He came over last night and picked up the last of his stuff. My mom cooked this huge dinner, and sat there in the dining room like an idiot. My dad grabbed his golf clubs, told my mom she looked pretty and bounced out the door.

**Mercedes**: Quinn, I'm really sorry.

**Quinn**: Dammit! I should have broken up with Finn first. At least I could walk down the school halls with some dignity tomorrow.

**Mercedes**: You still can!

**Quinn**: Yeah right.

**Mercedes**: You shouldn't be ashamed of the fact that you fell for someone and it didn't work out. You're still young, still pretty, still smart. This is a really messed up thing to say, but Finn's life is over after high school! He's going to work for Rachel's dad and have annoying loud babies with her. You'll probably be in college, dating some movie star.

**Quinn**: Clint Eastwood is cute though

**Mercedes**: Just stay away from Sidney Poitier. He's mine.

The girls laughed at themselves.

**Quinn**: I bet you've never made a fool out of yourself for a boy.

**Mercedes**: Please. You didn't know me two years ago. I fell for the new guy at school.

**Quinn**: Kurt.

**Mercedes**: H-how did you know?

**Quinn**: Well, if you were in love with your last boyfriend, I assume you wouldn't have broken up with him.

**Mercedes**: Yeah well…I threw a brick through his car window.

**Quinn**: Impressive. What happened after that?

**Mercedes**: I apologized. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and we became best friends.

**Quinn**: Finn was my only friend…

**Mercedes**: You still have Puck and Sam and um... I'm sorry

**Quinn**: Are you alright?

"I'm fine," Mercedes said, but tears were steadily coming down her face. "What is it?" Quinn asked. Mercedes shook her head.

"Um," Mercedes said between breaths, "The uh police think Sam may have started the fire."

"What?!" Quinn said. "That's impossible!"

"I know, he seems so kind-"

"No, really, it's IMPOSSIBLE! Sam is afraid to death of fire. He can't even light a match without pissing himself. Frankly, I don't even know how he ran into that building."

"W-what?"

"It's true," Quinn said. "The only reason I know, is he freaked out at a bonfire rally we had before a big game. He looked like he was having a heart attack. I gave him a flashlight so he could sit in the stands away from everyone. I don't care what the police think they know, Sam couldn't have done it."

* * *

Detective Corcoran walked swiftly to her kitchen to pick up her phone.

"Hello?"

"Do you know what Agoraphobia is?"

"Mercedes?"

**Mercedes**: Do you know what it is!

**Detective Corcoran**: It's uh when someone can't take closed spaces.

**Mercedes**: Agoraphobia is a panic disorder related to panic attacks where a person cannot deal with a current situation. Sam has pyrophobia, meaning he has panic attacks around or near fire, which can feel like a heart attack. He didn't start having panic attacks till after his house burned down. Did you know that?

**Detective Corcoran**: Well, I-

**Mercedes**: Because if you did, you'd know Sam couldn't have possibly started the fire if he has pyrophobia

**Detective Corcoran**: That may be true.

**Mercedes**: Look, I don't know who told you that Sam started that fire, but they are lying or covering up for themselves. Leave Sam alone, and do your job so I don't have to do it for you.

Shelby heard a click and then the dial tone. She hung up the phone, dumbfounded.

"Babe, who was that?" Russell asked.

"Nothing sweetie," Shelby said, reentering the dining room. She kissed Mr. Fabray before taking seat back at the table.

"I think I have to start over on this case," she said.

Mercedes lay awake in her bed, looking at the ceiling. She was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, going back and forth on whether or not she should sneak out to see Sam.

There was a knock on her window.

Mercedes saw Sam perched there. She held her breath as her heart beat started going crazy.

She walked over the window and opened it. Sam climbed in her room.

The two said nothing.

"I know about what the Detective said to you," Mercedes began.

"I swear on the lives of my family I did not burn down the school," Sam said.

"I know," Mercedes said.

"You-you do," Sam said.

Mercedes nodded, touching the tags dangling from her neck.

"You're still wearing it," Sam said with a lopsided smile.

"I want to know everything, Sam. You need to tell me," Mercedes said.

Sam nodded, taking Mercedes hand.

Mercedes and Sam snuck out of her window and walked to the nearest park. Sam sat Mercedes down on the bench. He sat next to her. His hands shook as he rubbed them together.

"It's a really really really long story," Sam said.

"Just start from the beginning okay," Mercedes told him.

Sam nodded and breathed out.

"Okay… I guess it all started with my parents back when they were our age. My mom, whose name was Mary Smythe before she married my dad, was really good at the piano. Her parents were rich and gave her all the lessons she wanted. For her high school senior trip, she and her friends went down to Nashville to get guitar lessons from a real country western musician. She met my dad, who gave her free lessons. They fell in love. My grandparents hated my dad because he was different and had little money. They told her that if she married my dad, they would never speak to her again. Well, as you may have figured already, she married him. They bought a house in the city and made music together for a few years. Then Pearl Harbor happened and everything changed. My dad and his three brothers enlisted. After four years, my dad was the only one of them to make it back. He promised never to leave my mom again and then they had me a few years later. I barely remember the first four years of my life, but I guess I was happy.

"Then all of sudden, it just went wrong. It first happened at the Fourth of July picnic. We were watching the fireworks. I was on my dad's shoulders. He heard the boom and just ran. I fell off his shoulders but landed on the grass so I was okay. When we found my dad, he was just hiding under a picnic table. Next day he was completely normal. At random moments, he would just snap, and we didn't know what it was. My dad called the army to inform him of his illness and instead of paying for him to see a doctor; they stamped "crazy" on his head and discharged him.

"For years, he would have these flashbacks and just turn violent. He never hurt us, mostly he would hurt himself. Of course, he couldn't behave this way and work, so he started to drink to calm his nerves. But the only thing worse than a crazy person is a drunk. My dad booked no more gigs after that. He just stayed home. One day, he had too much to drink and passed out in front of the fire place. I just remember waking up choking, like my lungs were caving in on me. By the time the firemen arrived, I had already dragged my dad out onto the pavement.

"My dad was arrested and put in a mental hospital. After some tests, they found out that he had something called Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. No one had heard of it, but basically it meant that the war traumatized my dad mentally. So, my dad wasn't crazy, he was just sick. Unfortunately, because PTSD was a relatively new symptom of combat, there was no treatment. So my mom took my dad, and we moved to the country. There, our closest neighbor was three miles away. My dad was finally at peace. That's when they had Stevie and Stacie.

"Because my dad couldn't be around people, I worked while my mom homeschooled me. I probably did a good forty hours a week in the field. My mom hated it. She's cry and say 'no son of mine is going to be a field hand.'

"By the time I was thirteen, my mom had had enough and called her family to make amends. They said they were sorry, and wanted to see their grandchildren. They told my parents about the new medication they had for stress disorders and agreed to pay for my dad's doses as long as we moved up north. When we got there, my grandparents kept their word with my dad, and they enrolled me into Dalton Academy where my cousin was going. It wasn't so bad at first, but then my mom's family started to show their true colors. The Smythes are tricky people. My grandfather started offering my dad money to leave my mom. When he said no, they got even more hostile about it and my parents pulled me out of Dalton Academy and we moved to Lima.

"My dad managed to get a truck driving job that kept us fed, and kept him away from a stressful work area. I haven't seen my mom's family since."

Mercedes sat speechless next to Sam.

"Well…that explains a lot," Mercedes said slowly nodding her head up and down.

Sam chuckled. "I never really told anyone the whole story before. I mean Finn was the first friend I made here and he knew about my dad, but other than that-"

"Wait, Finn knew?" Mercedes said.

"Yeah."

Mercedes sat quietly next to Sam. She watched as two squirrels chased each other across the grass.

"…You're a good person Sam," Mercedes said, leaning her head on Sam's shoulder.

"Mind you I wasn't always this fine and put-together. I had my down moments when I thought life couldn't get any worse," Sam said, putting his arm around Mercedes.

"Who you? Never," Mercedes said, looking up at Sam with a smile.

"You saved me you know," Sam said.

"Me?" Mercedes said

Sam touched Mercedes' nose affectionately.

"Uh huh," Sam replied.

Mercedes exhaled. "I'm so relieved!" she sang.

"Why? Cause you're boyfriend's not a psychopath?" Sam said.

Mercedes elbowed Sam.

"No, silly. I had been having this horrible dream for a week now,"

"About the fire?" Sam asked.

Mercedes shook her head. "I don't know. I assumed it was about us."

"What was the dream about?"

Mercedes shrugged her shoulders. "Beats me. It was a hundred yards from making any sense."

"You know," Sam said, pulling Mercedes closer. "I have dreams too."

"Oh really," Mercedes said. "And what happens in this dream Samwise?"

"Well, it was me and you sitting like this," Sam began, "and then I brushed your bottom lip with my thumb like this," he continued slyly copying what he just said. Mercedes smiled up at him, making Sam's own lopsided grin appear. "Then you'd smile up at me with your brown eyes and say-"

"I love you Sam Evans," Mercedes said.

Sam sat frozen with his free hand still holding Mercedes' face. His own face resembled that of a young boy who just received exactly what he wanted for Christmas.

"Well," Mercedes said. "Do you wake up after that part or do you get a kiss?"

Sam smiled, biting his bottom lip. The two kissed under the stars. When their lips separated, Mercedes sighed. "I like that dream," she said.

"You wanna hear about my other dream where we go skinny dipping in the lake-"

"SAM!"

* * *

"Okay, I never thought I'd say this, but I actually struggled with this equation last ni-"

"You little sidewinder," Mercedes said, cutting Artie off mid-sentence.

"What's up with you?" Artie asked. Mercedes closed the door behind her.

"You didn't think I'd figure out it was you who put my name on the ballot?" Mercedes said accusingly.

Artie scoffed. "Uh, negro, I think the words you're looking for are 'Thank You.'"

"I'm not thanking you! You made Santana angry with me," Mercedes said.

"That's not my fault," Artie said.

"It's ALL your fault," Mercedes said.

Artie put his hands up in surrender.

"Fine, okay. I'm sorry… I'm sorry you're beautiful and I felt compelled to share that beauty with the whole school. I will never do it again."

Mercedes bit her lip to hide the smile attempting to merge from her mouth.

"Okay, let's do some work," Mercedes said, taking the seat next to Artie.

"Let's do Shakespeare first," Artie said, pulling out the play from his bag.

Mercedes eyed Artie suspiciously as he handed her the book.

"Thank you," she said.

"YOUR WELCOME. See that wasn't hard," Artie told her.

"Oh shut up, Arthur."

* * *

"Hey, Santana!"

Ten people shushed Puck as he entered the library.

"Geeks," Puck said, taking a seat at the table where Santana was ignoring him.

**Santana**: {dully} Go away Noah

**Puck**: What's eating you?

**Santana**:{under her breath} I swear I hate this school.

**Puck**: So, I was thinking maybe we could catch a movie, maybe grab some dinner later. I know this great little Irish place called McDonalds-

**Santana**: Puckerman! Give up! I'm not going to have sex with you!

**Puck**: Why not?

**Santana**: Because… We're too different.

**Puck**: What does that mean?

**Santana**: Noah… You know I'm… a person of color

**Puck**: Yeah…isn't everybody some color?

**Santana**: {to herself} Moron. Okay, Noah, I'm colored.

**Puck**: Okkkayyy

**Santana**: I'm a negro you dumbass. I'm black

**Puck**: And

**Santana**: …And?

**Puck**: I don't care! I'm jewish!

**Santana**: So… you don't have a problem with being with a black girl.

**Puck**: Please, tang is tang. Besides, we're all black when the lights go out.

**Santana**: …That is the dumbest yet wisest thing I've ever heard.

**Puck**: {smugly} Thank you.

**Santana**: How about I make you a proposition?

**Puck**: I'm listening.

**Santana**: If you team up with me and help me win Homecoming Queen, I'll do you whichever way you want.

**Puck**: Deal

* * *

The girls sat gossiping in the back of the choir room as the boys arrived from football practice. "Okay guys, I have a few announcements," Mr. Schue said.

"This weekend we received two letters. One is from a little show we know called _Dance, Dance Cleveland_,"

Everyone gasped. "Oh my God, you're shitting me!" Santana said.

"Santana, language," Mr. Schuester said. "And no, I am most certainly not. You guys are going to be performing this Christmas with _Dance, Dance Cleveland's_ very own Vocal Adrenaline Dancers.

Everyone cheered as the girls jumped up and down.

"Oh my goodness, I've been watching Dance, Dance Cleveland since I was ten! And Now I get to dance with them!" Rachel said.

"Jesse St. James is a total fox. I can't believe we get to meet him!" Tina squealed.

"We have a ton of practice to do. The Vocal Adrenaline dancers are like tornadoes on coke," Kurt said.

"Kurt, you're exactly right. Which brings me to the second letter," Mr. Schuester said.

"Carnegie Hall, Carnegie Hall, Carnegie Hall, Carnegie Hall," Rachel wished out loud.

"Not yet, Rachel," Mr. Schuester said. "We've received our first invitational."

"What's an invitational?" Finn asked.

"It's where a school's glee club invites another glee club to compete against them," Mr. Schuester explained. "Now, I know we aren't technically a glee club because we don't sing acapella, but this is a great opputunity for us to harness our talent before we perform on the Christmas special."

"I agree, Mr. Schuester," Rachel said, standing up "I shall prepare a regimen of vocal exercises-"

"Sit down!" Santana said, yanking Rachel back in her seat. "What's the name of the glee club?"

"The Dalton Academy Warblers."

While everyone ooed and awwwed at the school, Sam and Mercedes sat motionless with their jaws to the floor, both of them utterly speechless for two different reasons.

"Did he say Dalton?" Sam asked. Mercedes nodded.

"Uh Huh. The Dalton…. Warblers" Mercedes replied.

**To be continued…**


	9. Chapter 9

**New Directions: 1965 Lima, Ohio part 9**

**[thank you for all the reviews. This is a more lighthearted chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it please comment :)]**

"Alright ladies, last picture! Pose for the camera"

All the homecoming court girls stood in a straight line with flirty smiles as the school photographer took their picture.

"Beautiful girls, thank you," he said, switching the lens from his camera.

Mercedes grabbed her stuff to make it just in time for first period.

Mr. Schuester excused her, and she took her seat next to Tina.

"How was it?" Tina whispered.

"Good, I think," Mercedes said, pulling out her journal from her book bag and putting on her glasses.

"What about the interview?"

"Jacob Ben Israel spent most of the time drooling over Rachel. I got maybe two short answers in during the group interview and that was it," Mercedes said.

"Don't worry, I think the article will be great," Tina said.

"I wish I never got nominated. I bet most of the people who voted for me did it as a prank," Mercedes said.

"Ladies, eyes forward please," Mr. Schuester said, interrupting the girls' discussion.

* * *

"The Newspaper club just printed out the Homecoming Issue!" Santana said, waving her copy around in her hand, before taking the seat next to Puck at the table.

"So soon?" Mercedes said in disbelief as she saw more students arriving in the cafeteria with copies of the school paper.

"It's a big deal. It's the first interracial Homecoming Court McKinley's ever had," Mike said.

Brittany arrived with extra copies. She took a seat next to her running mate, Kurt. All the girls took a copy and turned to the Homecoming Queen section. Each girl had a full or half page with a picture and a few words.

"Oh my God they gave us nicknames based on our profiles," Santana said, "They called me the Latin Vixen. Not bad."

"I'm Miss School Spirit," Brittany said. "Jacob said my cheerleader uniform brings the boys to their knees. Maybe I should start wearing underwear then."

"I'm Miss American Sweetheart, which is better than Ice Queen which I know everyone calls me behind my back," Quinn said.

"They called Samantha Sims the red firecracker," Kurt said.

Rachel walked up to the table, with Finn cautiously standing behind her, in fear of getting smacked by Quinn.

"Despite Jacob's strange manor, I'm glad he was able to keep a writer's objective by naming me 'Lima's Girl Next Door,'" Rachel said triumphantly.

"Don't you mean girl next whore," Santana said.

"At least I got a full page Santana. You look like a toddler with only that small half a page for your picture," Rachel retorted.

"I have to admit Rachel, the photo guy did perform a miracle in hiding that purple bruising around your nose where Quinn hit you, or should I thank the make-up girl who spent over an hour trying to cover it up," Santana replied.

Rachel narrowed her eyes before storming off with Finn in hand.

"MJ, what's the article say?" Sam asked, trying to read over his girlfriend's shoulder.

"Come on, read it aloud!" Puck said.

"He said I was the 'loyal friend,'" Mercedes said.

"Give me that," Sam said, taking the paper away.

"McKinley's First ever black Homecoming nominee, Mercedes Jones, is the typical supporting female. If the Nancy Drew comics were represented entirely by Negros, Miss Jones would no doubt own the role of Bess Marvin, Nancy's good-natured, loyal, chubby sidekick."

"Please stop reading," Mercedes said, taking the paper away from Sam.

Everyone turned quiet.

"Well… you are a good friend," Mike said innocently, only to get the abort-mission look from Kurt.

"So…what is he saying exactly?" Puck asked.

"That Mercedes is the fat friend, right?" Brittany said, clearly unaware of the awkward situation.

"I'm going to go talk to Israel," Sam said, getting up.

"Sam, sit down," Mercedes said. "It's fine really."

Mercedes looked down at the article once more before rolling her eyes, getting up and walking away.

* * *

It was nine o'clock in the evening. Mercedes had just finished taking her bath and was staring at herself in the bathroom mirror with her bathrobe covering most of her body.

She turned her body to the side to view her profile. She pushed in her chin with her finger, sucked in her cheeks and stomach and smiled, but soon frowned at how ridiculous she looked.

"What are you doing?"

Mercedes' big brother, Matthew, stood at the doorway with an inquisitive look on his face.

"Nothing," Mercedes said.

"I told mom to stop letting you eat all those cookies when you were little," he said jokingly.

"Would you leave me alone?" Mercedes said, tossing her hair brush at Matt, only for him to dodge it and smile.

"Look, baby sis. It's not like you're ugly or anything. It's nothing a jog or twenty around the block won't cure," Matt continued.

"Go away Mattie!" Mercedes replied, shutting the door…

Mercedes looked at the newsletter article under her desk lamp. It was self-inflicting torture to read it over and over again. She felt somewhat ashamed to be worrying about what a Rachel-Berry fanatic wrote in the school paper, but she couldn't help it. Mercedes was always mindful to never show too much skin, but never really considered why she did this. Was she secretly embarrassed of her own weight?

Usually in times like these, Santana would have some harsh yet encouraging words for Mercedes, but the two really weren't really on speaking terms.

* * *

Mercedes opened her locker to get out her History books for Mr. Schuester's class. She heard someone clear their throat. Mercedes ignored the sound, only for it to occur again but slightly more prominent.

"Ahem,"

Mercedes closed her locker door to find Rachel standing in front of her.

"Good morning, Mercedes."

Mercedes raised one eyebrow in distrust before saying "hello" to Rachel.

"You've probably reached some sort of epiphany since yesterday after that article," Rachel began. "We've never really talked, but I feel compelled to advise you in your time of need."

Mercedes' narrowed her eyes in disbelief as Rachel continued.

"I myself was a slightly overweight youth. Not as much as you, but I still had to overcome it. My father paid for me to have ballet lessons, which dissolved my baby fat. I'm not sure if your family can afford to give you such things, but believe me it is well worth the money. Since Sam is a dear friend of mine, there's no need to thank me for my council-"

Mercedes had heard enough.

"Thank you? You may be Sam's friend, but you're not mine. I don't need you telling what I should or should not do."

"Mercedes, I'm just trying to be helpful. If there's something you don't like about yourself, you should change it," Rachel said.

"I like myself very much," Mercedes said.

"Well… I guess that's all that matters," Rachel replied in her most condescending voice.

* * *

Mercedes sat in the cafeteria. She played with her food in her plate as the others watched her.

"Why don't you eat something?" Sam said.

"I'm not hungry," Mercedes replied glumly staring at the plate.

Sam looked to his friends for help, his eyes pleading for assistance.

"Mercedes, you should eat. You need your daily amount of fiber," Mike said sweetly.

"Thanks Michael, I'm fine," Mercedes replied.

Mike gave Sam the subtle I-tried look before turning his attention back to his own lunch.

Finn arrived at the table.

"So, it's been decided by Principal Figgins that the ladies from New Directions will perform at the annual Lima Homecoming Alumni Luncheon," Finn announced.

"Why just the ladies?" Kurt asked.

"The Luncheon has always served as a tribute to the past Homecoming Queens of McKinley," Finn explained.

"So basically, we'll be singing to bunch of old white women," Santana said in a less than enthusiastic tone.

"We have to find a way to pay for new costumes and transportation to invitationals. These alumni have the money we need for that stuff. So just sing your hearts out and get them to like you," Finn said, before leaving the table.

Santana scoffed. "What's the point of getting them to like us if we'll be swaying in the background the entire time behind Rachel?"

"You have to go anyway, because you're nominated so make the best of it," said Kurt.

"The mayor will be there, not to mention plenty of Lima press," Quinn said.

"That's more publicity for you," Puck said to Santana with a smile. Santana smiled back, feeling ten times more agreeable about their upcoming performance.

* * *

Mercedes and the other girls stood by the piano. They were arguing about the back harmonies.

"We have to figure this out," Rachel said.

"Our problem is we're all sopranos. One of us has to sing the low notes," said Tina.

Everyone looked at Santana.

"No way, I wanna sing the high part like everyone else!" Santana exclaimed.

"I'll sing it, we'll just have to find a permanent alto later," Mercedes said, who was in no mood to quarrel over harmonies when their luncheon performance was coming up so soon.

All the girls stopped talking, little smiles appearing on each of their faces.

"What's going on?" Mercedes asked, who could not see what was going on behind her back.

Before she could find out, she felt two large hands engulf her eyes.

"Sam, what're you-"

Mercedes turned around to see her boyfriend with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smug look on his face.

"Sam, what is all this?" Mercedes said.

"It's our anniversary," Sam replied.

Mercedes scrunched her eyebrows in confusion.

"Sam, we've been going steady for a week," Mercedes said.

Sam scoffed. "I know that woman. It's our one week anniversary," he announced as he handed Mercedes the flowers.

"Sam Evans, there is no such thing as a one week anniversary," Mercedes said.

Sam shook his head.

"You poor child. And you said history was your favorite subject. The one week anniversary is a long standing tradition invented by the House of Evans in the early twentieth century," Sam said in his most condescending tone.

"The House of Evans you say? I stand corrected," Mercedes said mockingly.

"It's okay, you're forgiven," Sam said.

"So, what happens on a week anniversary?" Mercedes asked.

"You get flowers, a kiss, and dinner at the finest restaurant in Lima," Sam said, kissing his lady's hand.

"You're so lucky Mercedes," Tina said as she held her heart and leaned on the piano.

Kurt rolled his eyes as he stood with the other guys.

"Santana," said Puck suddenly, reaching into his pocket. "Happy Two day anniversary baby," said Puck, handing her a blue pen.

"I don't want your old ass pen," Santana said, chucking the pen back at Puck who dodged it.

* * *

Mercedes couldn't help but hum through most of fourth period. Sam's impromptu anniversary gift had pulled her out of a self-pity funk the school article had brought her in.

"Excuse you, some of us are trying to study," Artie said, as Mercedes foot bounced under the table.

"Sorry, Artie," Mercedes said.

"I also don't appreciate you butchering that classic," Artie said, referring the song Mercedes was humming.

Mercedes snapped her neck in Artie's direction.

"Excuse me? What do you even know about Ray Charles?" Mercedes asked.

"What are you talking about? I taught Ray everything! In fact, that blind fool needs to cut me royalty check from all the stuff he stole from me," Artie said.

Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"Artie, you don't know nothing bout no soul music. Ray goes to church!" Mercedes said.

Artie shook his head. "Nah uh girl, I'm going to show you how it's done," Artie said, rolling to the piano.

Mercedes put her hands on her hips, as Artie cracked his fingers than began to play, and to Mercedes' surprise, sing.

_"Wellllll, I got a woman, way over town, that's good to me Oohhh yeah," _Artie sang.

Mercedes' jaw hit the floor.

_"She gives me money! When I'm in need! She's a kind of friend indeed! I got a woman way over town that's good to me!"_ Artie sang with his eyes closed.

Mercedes stood up, went over to the piano. Artie jumped in his seat when he heard Mercedes' voice for the first time.

"HE GIVES ME MONAY! WHEN I'M IN NEEEEEEEEDD," Mercedes sang, embellishing every word.

"Oh he's a kind friend in deeedd WEELLLL," Mercedes sang sweetly, hitting a sweet high note at the end.

"I got a woman," Artie managed to sing as his tickled the piano keys, "way over town,"

"That's goooooood tooooo Muheeeee," Mercedes crooned, harmonizing to Artie as he hit the last note.

"Whoa," Artie said, when the music room was once again silent.

Mercedes gaped at Artie in amazement.

Artie managed to wipe his temporary look of love from his face before he shook his head and said "No."

* * *

"You don't understand Sam. He can sing. I mean REALLY SING," Mercedes said.

"I get it - he can sing. You told me bout five times already," Sam said.

Mercedes watched as Sam moved around in his mom's apron, trying to find the right ingredients.

"What's wrong with you?" Mercedes said with a curious smile on her face.

"…Is he better singer than me?" Sam asked.

"…Well, I can't really say," Mercedes began.

"Well DAMN. You can't even lie to make me feel better!" Sam said, as Mercedes laughed.

"You know I love your voice Sam," Mercedes said, putting her hand on Sam's leg.

Sam's ears turned bright red. "Okay," Sam said conceding defeat. Mercedes was impossible to stay angry with. He was already having a hard enough time keeping his eyes on the stove as Mercedes sat and watched him in the kitchen.

"So, is he going to join the New Directions?" Sam asked, dodging the flames coming from the stove

"That's the worst part. He said 'no' before I even asked him," Mercedes told Sam, shaking her head.

Mercedes giggled at Sam.

"You know, I don't think your parents will appreciate your burning down the trailer," Mercedes said. Sam had brought it upon himself to cook a lovely Anniversary dinner while his family was at the drive-in movies.

"I'm not going to burn down the trailer. I think it's ready," Sam said, blowing on the spoonful of chili. "Here, it's hot."

Mercedes leaned forward and tasted the chilli. "Mmm that is good," Mercedes said, licking off the rest on her bottom lip.

"Uh huh that's right! All the Evans men can cook. The Smythes, on the other hand, not so much," Sam said, taking the cornbread out of the oven. "Don't tell him I said so, but Stevie cooks like a Smythe, lord bless him."

Mercedes laughed. "Stevie doesn't have to learn how to cook. He's handsome. I can tell he'll be that boy in high school that all the girls will bring their home-baked cookies to," she said.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say all that. You may have not noticed but Stevie has a webbed toe," Sam said.

"I can't believe you're jealous of your own little brother Sam," Mercedes said snickering.

Sam placed two bowls on the kitchen table, each with two slices of cornbread. He topped them off with his spicy chili.

"Hey, I love Stevie, but you don't know him like I do. He's devious. If he knew that you would go out with him if I was dead, he'd slit my throat in my sleep," Sam said with a comically grave stare.

Mercedes tried to stop herself from snorting.

"I'm serious! My daddy is just as bad. I mentioned you yesterday and he put his hand on my shoulder and said, 'I tell you Samuel, If I was five years younger, you'd have no chance in hell.' I swear on my life he said that."

Mercedes coughed out her milk she had been drinking.

"five years!?" Mercedes said.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Apparently my dad thinks he was hot stuff in his forties," he said shaking his head.

Mercedes laughed as Sam placed her napkin on her lap and they began eating.

**Mercedes**: So have you given any thought about the invitational?

**Sam**: It doesn't matter what I think

**Mercedes**: You know it does. We wouldn't have been invited if your grandparents didn't fund half the school.

**Sam**: Nothing ever good comes from them.

**Mercedes**: If you don't want us to go, we don't have to

**Sam**: No, you can go. I'll stay

**Mercedes**: There's no point in my going if you're not.

**Sam**: But the team needs their captain.

**Mercedes**: I'm pretty sure Finn and Rachel got it covered.

**Sam**: No way. They need you. The Warblers are serious stuff. Last time I checked my cousin is still the best male voice I've ever heard. He could sing with the Vocal Adrenaline dancers if he wanted to.

**Mercedes**: I doubt he's better than you.

**Sam**: {begrudgingly} Yeah but you still think the wheelchair kid can out sing me.

**Mercedes**: I actually think Noah has the strongest male voice in the group

**Sam**: This is not making me feel any better.

**Mercedes**: {slyly} I guess he and I could co-captain the group together when we go to Dalton

**Sam**: Oh so now you're going without me?

**Mercedes**: Noah also looks really good in a suit.

**Sam**: You know what, I'll go. I haven't seen my cousin in a long time anyway.

**Mercedes**: Really.

**Sam**: Yeah.

**Mercedes**: That's great Sam.

**Sam**: Say what you will, but nobody looks better in a suit than Sam Evans does.

...

"That was the best meal I never cooked," Mercedes said as she and Sam sat on the porch, looking at the stars.

"Alright you got flowers and dinner. You get to choose one more thing to make this week anniversary complete," Sam told her.

Mercedes touched her chin in a thinking manner.

"…I think I would like…some dessert," Mercedes whispered softly.

Sam put his arm around Mercedes.

"Well now…we do have white chocolate in supply," Sam moving in to kiss Mercedes.

"I was actually thinking about real dessert, like some ice-cream maybe?" Mercedes said, as Sam planted kisses on her neck.

Sam stopped.

"What? But you used your come-hither voice," Sam said pouting.

"I have a come-hither voice?" Mercedes said.

"You have a come-hither eyes too. And a minute ago they said 'Sam, I need me some white chocolate'" Sam said, going back to kissing his girlfriend's neck.

"So what does yours sound like?" Mercedes asked.

"It sounds like this," Sam mumbled as he moved up to Mercedes' lips.

"You always sound like that though," Mercedes said through smooches.

"I know," Sam said, getting in another kiss.

Mercedes touched the side of Sam's face. He looked into her brown eyes and conceded defeat.

"Alright, alright. Let's go get ice-cream. But I want M&Ms," Sam declared.

The two walked hand in hand to the truck…

* * *

Mercedes entered Mr. Berry's drugstore.

It was slightly busier that night.

Sam was still in the truck, filling his face with M&Ms.

Mercedes passed two ladies sitting at a booth as she went over to the ice cream parlor.

The two women lowered their voices, but Mercedes could still hear their conversation.

**1****st**** Woman**: I don't what this town has come to

**2****nd**** Woman**: Integrated or not, my family has never missed a Homecoming, and I don't intend to now.

**1****st**** Woman**: But did you see the students they picked for Homecoming Court? Three Colored People. THREE of them on the court!

**2****nd**** Woman**: I heard Berry's daughter got nominated. I thought jews still went to separate temple schools.

**1****st**** Woman**: {whispering} And that one big negro girl. I love my alma mater, but if you're going to nominate a nigger at least pick a pretty one.

Mercedes dropped her coin purse. A few dimes rolled across the tile floor. She quickly bent over to pick up a few before hurrying to the door. Not looking where she was going, she bumped into an older boy with light brown hair and glasses.

"Sorry Miss," he said, bending over to pick some more of the change Mercedes had dropped on the ground.

"No, it's alright. Sorry," Mercedes said, passing him and leaving the drugstore.

Mercedes got into the truck, closing the side door behind her.

"Where's the ice-cream?" Sam asked.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Mercedes said glumly.

Sam waved the M&Ms in Mercedes' face. She shook her head, rejecting the gesture.

"What's wrong MJ?"

"Take me home Sam."

Sam put the candy down. It was clear to him that Mercedes was upset about something.

"Did something happen in there?" Sam asked, his voice far more serious than it was a moment ago.

"Nothing...I-I dropped my dimes," Mercedes said.

"You're not upset over some dimes-"

"Can you drop it?!"

Sam moved his hand away from Mercedes' arm.

"I-I'm sorry for snapping at you. I just want to go home," Mercedes said softly.

Sam looked at Mercedes. She was definitely not telling him something.

"Alright. I'll take you home," Sam told her, reluctantly starting his engine…

During the whole ride home, Mercedes stared out of the car window.

When they finally pulled up to the house, Sam turned off the car engine.

"You don't have to walk me to the door," Mercedes finally said.

"What? That's my favorite part of the night. I love how your dad scowls at me through the window."

Mercedes didn't laugh, but merely gave a polite lift to the side of her mouth to acknowledge the joke.

Silence separated the two.

"Why do you like me?"

Sam raised his eyebrow, somewhat surprised at his girlfriend's sudden inquiry.

"Because you have cute ears," Sam said.

Mercedes narrowed her eyes.

"I'm serious Sam."

Sam smiled.

"Lots of reasons," he answered.

"Tell me," Mercedes said.

"Well, you're smart, kind, attractive," Sam said.

"Lots of girls are smart, kind, and attractive," Mercedes said. "I wanna know why you picked me."

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I don't… I can't put my finger on it quite. But you have it."

"Have what?"

"IT-uh" Sam said emphasizing the "T."

Mercedes snorted. She always hated and yet loved how Sam always had her smiling when she didn't want to.

"You know, you could have just said I was pretty," Mercedes said.

"It's more than that though. I just haven't learned the word for it yet," Sam said.

Mercedes leaned in to kiss Sam on the cheek. He sneakily moved his face just in time to catch her lips.

"MJ," Sam said softly.

"Uh huh," Mercedes said in reply.

"You don't really think Artie sings better that me-"

"Goodnight Sam," Mercedes said, cutting Sam off. With a confident grin, Sam pulled Mercedes in for one more kiss before he let her go.

* * *

"What are you looking at?"

Sam jumped.

"Shhh," he told Quinn.

Quinn had been walking to her French class when she spotted Sam peering into the music room.

**Quinn**: Why are you looking at Arthur Abrams?

**Sam**: Mercedes is his tutor. She spends almost two periods a day with him

**Quinn**: And

**Sam**: And I don't like it.

**Quinn**: {rolling her eyes} Oh my God Sam, you're jealous of the cripple kid

**Sam**: Hey, that cripple kid still has two hands, two hands that are trying to grab up on my MJ

**Quinn**: If you should be worried about anyone, it's Kurt.

**Sam**: I was suspicious about Kurt, but if ever came down to it, I'd beat him in fisticuffs. But this Artie guy is a problem.

**Quinn**: Why?

**Sam**: Cause he's in a wheelchair. You can't just punch a handicapped kid in the face, even if he is a jerk.

**Quinn**: {sarcastically} Why don't you just roll him down the stairs when no one is looking.

**Sam**: {thinking about it} ….

**Quinn**: I was joking Sam…

**Sam**: You don't understand, I know he likes her.

**Quinn**: Does Mercedes like him?

**Sam**: I don't think so. She thinks they're friends.

**Quinn**: Then you're fine. Just treat your girlfriend right Sam. If you do that, then she'll be good to you.

Sam looked down at Quinn. "Thanks Quinn…Look, I'm sorry about what Finn did-"

Quinn shook her head. "It's cool Sam," she said, as the two walked to class, "I still consider you a friend."

Sam put his arm around Quinn, giving her a quick side-hug to which Quinn reluctantly accepted. "Hey Quinnie," Sam began.

"What?" Quinn said.

"You don't still sing alto do you?" Sam asked, a playful grin appearing on his face.

* * *

Mercedes sat next to Santana in her fifth period. Students were still trying to get to their seats before the bell rang.

"Are you still mad at me?" Mercedes asked.

"Yes," Santana said, looking at her nails.

**Mercedes**: Come on!

**Santana**: It doesn't matter anymore anyway. I'm running with Noah now, and he's going to get me all the votes I need

**Mercedes**: Then why are you still mad?

**Santana**: Because you should drop out. You know half the people who voted for you probably did it as a prank.

**Mercedes**: Why do you have to so mean Santana.

**Santana**: You knew I was when you met me Mercedes.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. The bell rang. Mercedes turned back straight in her seat. She loved her friend, but Santana could be childishly hurtful when she wanted to be.

* * *

"Mercedes!"

Ms. Pillsbury embraced her ex-student.

"How are you doing Ms. Pillsbury?" Mercedes asked as the red-haired woman led Mercedes into her one-room apartment in the outskirts of town. Mercedes had decided to visit Ms. Pillsbury before the Homecoming Luncheon.

"Fine, it was so good to get your call. I've been keeping to myself mostly," Ms. Pillsbury replied, leading Mercedes to the couch.

Ms. Pillsbury, who had always been a little high strung, had not returned to teaching after the fire. She stayed in her home and tended to her garden.

The two ladies took seats opposite from each other.

"Mercedes, my favorite pupil. I'm so glad to see you. I hear you've been busy," she said.

Mercedes laughed.

"I'll admit my life is a bit more exciting than it used to be," Mercedes said with an abashed smile.

"Nominated for Homecoming Queen… I couldn't be prouder," Ms. Pillsbury said, getting up to pour some tea.

"Ms. Pillsbury… what happened to your house?" Mercedes asked.

Mercedes and the other SCRO members would have meetings at Ms. Pillsbury's cottage every other Wednesday before they started having it in the school basement.

"I thought a change would be nice," Ms. Pillsbury said with a sad smile.

"Ms. Pillsbury," Mercedes said in a no-nonsense tone.

"It's gone. The bank took it," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"No!" Mercedes exclaimed, her heart breaking. She had loved that cottage as if it were her own.

"Why didn't you tell us? Your family couldn't help you?"

Ms. Pillsbury shook her head and rolled her eyes at the thought of her parents.

"When they heard what I was teaching you students, they called me- well- you don't need to hear that, and they cut me off," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"I don't regret what I did. I lost my house, but I never felt more alive than when I was having those meetings with you and the others," said Ms. Pillsbury.

"I'm so ashamed," Mercedes said.

"What are you ashamed of?" Ms. Pillsbury asked.

"I mean no offense Ms. Pillsbury… but sometimes… I hate white people, I really do hate them. My mother always told me, they just don't know any better, but it's not true. I see people like Sam and his family and you, and you don't act like them. You grew up learning the same things other whites did, but you didn't turn out that way. So why should I excuse they way they treat us? I hate it, Ms. Pillsbury." Mercedes said.

"Do you ever wish it was easier? Do you ever wish you weren't a negro?" Ms. Pillsbury asked.

Mercedes sat in silence before lifting up her chin and shaking her head.

"No ma'am, because if I weren't, I'd be just like them," Mercedes said.

Ms. Pillsbury took Mercedes' hands.

"I'm not going to tell you to not be angry Mercedes. You have every right to be. And you're correct; being a Negro allows you to be different and to think differently than most white people. But with that comes a responsibility. Even the ignorant deserve to be educated. You have to teach them."

Mercedes sighed. "I'd rather just punch them," she admitted.

The two ladies snorted.

"Me too, me too," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"You're going to look so good with that crown on your head," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"I'm dropping out of the race," Mercedes told her.

"What! Nonsense! You're the smartest girl running," Ms. Pillsbury exclaimed.

"It's a beauty contest," Mercedes said, shaking her head.

"No one is prettier than you… I swear that McKinley. That's why I decided to teach at Roosevelt."

"I'm not the right kind of pretty," said Mercedes.

"Mercedes, you are beautiful. I can't convince you that this is true because you have to believe it for yourself. You were always so confident about the way you looked, what happened? Is it Sam?" Ms. Pillsbury asked.

"No, Sam always tells me I look nice. I guess the competition is just getting to me," Mercedes said.

"Don't let it. Be yourself," said Ms. Pillsbury. "All the girls at Roosevelt used to be pea green with envy when you'd walk down the hall."

"Envious of me?" Mercedes asked. "Why?"

"You had Je ne sais quoi," Ms. Pillsbury replied.

"I don't know what that means," Mercedes said.

"No one does dear. That's the point. Just promise me you won't drop out," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"…I don't know Ms. Pillsbury,"

Ms. Pillsbury's voice suddenly got uncharacteristically forceful.

"Do it for me! I'm homeless for God's sake!" the red-haired woman snapped.

"Yes ma'am," Mercedes replied out of shear surprise and intimidation. Ms. Pillsbury smiled again sweetly, and sipped her tea.

"You were always my favorite," Ms. Pillsbury said.

* * *

"Ladies, you're not mingling," Mrs. Sylvester said.

Santana downed a cup of punch before walking over to some alumni sitting down. She smiled as a cameraman took a picture of the table. Rachel soon followed suit.

Mercedes rolled her eyes as she bent over to rub her sore feet. The girls of New Directions had already performed a few numbers at the luncheon. It wasn't that enjoyable since Rachel sang lead on two of the songs, while Mercedes hummed in the back.

When she straightened back up she noticed Quinn surrounded by the city council members and Brittany sitting in the lap of some woman's husband.

"Well, everyone seems to be having fun, you might as well," Mercedes said to herself. She poured herself a cup of punch, and started to sip it slowly while her eyes continued to travel around the room.

That's when she spotted a familiar face.

It was the light brown haired Jewish boy she had bumped into last night. He awkwardly held a cup of punch in one hand as he tried to clean his glasses in the other. Mercedes smiled to herself, because he reminded her of Artie.

Mercedes walked over to him.

"Hello again, Need help?" she asked.

The young man looked up at Mercedes. His eyes brightened and his mouth gave a small jerk to the left; a sign of acknowledgement that he remembered Mercedes. He put back on his glasses.

"Hi," he said.

"I didn't introduce myself last time. My name's Mercedes."

The boy held out his hand.

"Steve," he said, as the two shook hands.

"So what brings you here?" Mercedes asked.

Steve pointed to his a gray-haired woman sitting at the far end of the end wearing a Jewish kippa on her head.

"I'm visiting my aunt. She wanted me to take a few pictures for her," he said.

Mercedes noticed he had a laid-back accent.

**Mercedes**: Where are you from?

**Steve**: I live in Cali with my dad. I'm a film student at California State.

**Mercedes**: That's cool. I love the cinema

**Steve**: Really, what films do you like?

**Mercedes**: Don't laugh at me. But I love Gone with the Wind. I've seen maybe a thousand times.

**Steve**: War themed dramas are actually my favorite.

**Mercedes**: {chuckling} Mine too! The variety of motions that come out in a person during a time of war.

**Steve**: Yes! And just imagine trying to capture that on film

**Mercedes**: Not many people can

**Steve**: True. It's a real art form… If you don't mind my asking, I noticed your necklace.

**Mercedes**: Oh, um the tags are from my boyfriend's father. He fought in WWII

**Steve**: My father too. It's probably why I'm obsessed with it.

**Mercedes**: …That's okay, you know. There are so many stories that need to be told about the horror of that war.

**Steve**: I couldn't agree more.

The other girls had stopped fraternizing with the alumni, and were standing at the punch table watching Mercedes.

"Look at her talk to the dweeb," Santana said to Quinn.

The girls watched as Mercedes laughed and touched the young man's arm. He said something and they both walked to the dance floor.

"She supposed to be chatting with the alumni or at least the press," Quinn said shaking her head.

"She can talk to whichever geek she wants. More votes for me," Santana said, going back to her table.

Mercedes danced with Steve for two songs before all the New Directions ladies were called back up to perform once more…

Mercedes was feeling better and it was finally time for her to sing lead. Rachel begrudgingly got in the back with Tina and Santana.

The band started playing, and the girls started harmonizing in the background.

Mercedes couldn't help but smile confidently as her lips touched the microphone. Every time she started singing, whether it was in front of black or white people, she always got the same reaction. When she belted the first line of the song, everyone jumped in their seat at the strength of her pipes.

**_Mercedes_**_: Does he love me, I wanna know!  
How can I tell if he loves me so!_

_**Tina, Santana, and Rachel**__: is it in his eyes?_

**_Mercedes_**_: Oh no, you'll be deceived_

**_Tina, Santana, and Rachel_**_: is it in his eyes_

**_Mercedes_**_: Oh no, he'll make believe!  
If you wanna know if he loves you so  
It's in his kiss_

**_Tina, Santana, and Rachel_**_: that's where it is, oh yeah  
(or is it in his face)_

**_Mercedes_**_: Oh no, it's just his charm!_

_**Tina, Santana, and Rachel**__: in his one embrace_

**_Mercedes_**_: Oh no, that's just his arm!  
If you wanna know if he loves you so  
It's in his kiss !_

**_Tina, Santana, and Rachel:_**_ that's where it is  
Oh oh, it's in his kiss that's where it is_

_**Mercedes**__: Oh oh oh, kiss him and squeeze him tight  
And find out what you wanna know  
If it's love, if it really is  
It's there in his kiss_

_**Tina, Santana, and Rachel**__: How 'bout the way he acts_

**_Mercedes_**_: Oh no, that's not the way  
And you're not listenin' to all I say  
If you wanna know if he loves you so  
It's in his kiss!_

**_Tina, Santana, and Rachel_**_: that's where it is  
Oh yeah, it's in his kiss that's where it is!_

The girls lined up and bowed as everyone in the crowd applauded.

Steve whistled as Mercedes smiled with the others and bowed one more time…

* * *

It was the next day. Mercedes, Sam, Noah, Mike, Kurt and Quinn sat down in the cafeteria at the usual table.

"I wish I could have gone," Mike said.

"Me too, I love hot old women," Puck chimed in, receiving a dirty look from Quinn.

"Are you feeling any better today?" Sam asked Mercedes.

Mercedes shrugged her shoulders.

"After this is just the homecoming game and the dance, then it's all over, thank goodness" Mercedes said.

"We still haven't figured out what we are going to perform for Invitational," said Mike.

"Our options aren't that big, seeing as we can't cover the alto parts," Mercedes told him.

"I'm working on it," Sam said, smiling at Quinn who shook her head in protest.

The cafeteria had gotten louder as more people started entering from third period. Lots of people were looking at the newspaper.

"Don't tell me Jacob Ben Israel is still writing about the Homecoming," Mercedes said, slumping into her chair.

Tina had just entered. She had a manila envelope in her hand.

"This was left for you at the office. Mrs. Sylvester asked me to give it to you," she said.

"For me?" Mercedes said, as Tina handed her the envelope.

There was a folded note attached to it. Mercedes read it out loud.

_Dear Mercedes,_

_I wanted you to get the first copy of my article, but I had a hard time finding your address, so I just dropped it off at the front office. It was very nice meeting you. I hope our paths cross again in the near future._

_Cordially,_

_Steve._

Mercedes opened the envelope and out fell the fourth page of today's newspaper.

Everyone at the table leaned in to read it. Mercedes gasped at the 6x8 picture of her performing on stage.

**_Lima's Own Juliette  
By Steven Spielberg_**

_I'll admit I was a bit reluctant to visit my aunt in Ohio. I didn't have that many fond memories there and the people never seemed to change. But I was low in income for my new film project, and my aunt had promised to get me a job if I came. She had remembered I used to write for the high school newsletter and called in a favor at the local paper._

_My reluctancy did not waver when she asked me to take pictures at the Homecoming Luncheon, but after a chance meeting with a beautiful stranger, I now understand my mother's dogmatic insistence that I always listen to my elders._

_This beautiful stranger had a name - Mercedes Jones. My camera had fallen for her the first time I saw her on stage. She was in the back, but her moves and attitude suggested she should have been in the front. For the longest while I stood in the corner of the hall, debating if I should go up to her and say something, anything. God smiled down on me when she came up to me instead._

_I was taken aback by the fact she recognized me. Two women had been rude to her at a local drugstore the other night and she left in a hurry, bumping into me. Her eyes were glossed over in tears, and I was surprised she managed to remember my face during that whole episode._

_Miss Jones asked me where I was from. I'm surprised I found an answer for everything she asked me; because my brain was enraptured by the way she looked. She was shorter than all the other girls, but this height challenge did not prevent her from having twice as many assets as the other Homecoming Queen hopefuls. What impressed me even more than her curvy figure was her equally mature mind. She was clever, and dare I say, nerdy, which is a surprisingly attractive quality in a woman. When I spoke, she looked at me directly in the eye like she was soaking in every word I spoke. Her stare made me feel small and yet very big at the same time. Her smile made me feel insignificant yet strangely powerful. There was something about this girl I just couldn't put my finger on it; we learn-ed like to call it Je ne sais quoi. She had something that a boy would not notice, but a man would climb the highest tower for._

_I admit I was somewhat let down when she mentioned having a boyfriend, but I still found the courage to ask her for a dance. I imagine Romeo felt something similar when he danced with Juliet. When the dance was over, Miss Jones returned to the stage at her rightful place in front. I wasn't the only one taken aback when opened her mouth and the voice of a mighty siren emerged. I stood in awe like a baffled fool, and she gave a quick wink at me while she bewitched the audience._

_Though I understand I am no one's leading man, I know that if I had a girl like Mercedes Jones, I would not stop till I became one. She is a leading lady. She is Juliet._

Mercedes closed the newspaper. She bit down on her lips to hide her smile, but her face was glowing so hard, the inability to see her teeth was inconsequential.

"Wow," Mike said.

Sam resisted interrogating Mercedes about who this Spielberg kid was, and just put his arm around her.

"All hail the queen," Kurt said.

"Stop it," Mercedes said, putting the article back into the envelope. But as she looked around the cafeteria, the many students at different tables noticing her for the first time, she didn't so much mind the idea anymore of a Homecoming crown on top of her head.

**To be continued…**

**Songs used: Ray Charles' I Got a Woman and Betty Everett's The Shoop Shoop Song (It's In his Kiss)**


	10. Chapter 10

**New Directions: Lima, Ohio 1965 X Homecoming Special part I**

**[Thanks for all the awesome reviews. Keep them coming! This is one of two parts of the Homecoming Special. It was too long, so I had to split it up. Some of you may think you missed a chapter because of the beginning of this one starts off confusing, but I assure you, there are no missing parts lol. Try not to hate me for this one lol.]**

Mercedes looked out of the bus window at the fall leaves. From the moment she got dressed in the morning to right then in the quiet of the bus ride to school, her pulse clanged in her ears. Mercedes exhaled after holding her breath when the bus finally stopped at McKinley. She stood up, waiting patiently, as the students stepped off the bus. Mercedes was the last to exit. As the bus pulled away and she saw the school in view, her heart pounded even harder. Mercedes shook her head. She knew she wasn't ready to go back to school.

The bell rang. It was too late to turn back. Mercedes checked her watch. Thirty seconds. She rushed to the front entrance of the school. Mercedes had already mapped it out in her head. If she took the short cut pass the gym, she would avoid seeing him. The hall was buzzing with students going to their first periods. Mercedes slipped through a bunch of ashtray kids, passed the east water fountain towards the gym. That's when she saw it.

WET FLOOR

The obnoxious yellow sign and bright tape was blocking her short cut. The janitor mopped away the spilled cola. Mercedes' soul died a little as she turned in despair to the main west hallway where Sam would be passing to go to his first period.

Mercedes took her time. She didn't care if she was tardy so long as she didn't see him. Though she had been contemplating it for the past two days, she was not ready to face her ex-boyfriend.

Mercedes turned into the West hall. It was nearly empty except for two nerds reading a comic. Mercedes sighed. She had missed him. But was fate ever that kind?

Sam turned the corner. He half stopped when he saw Mercedes standing in the middle of the hallway with her books held tight to her chest. Mercedes held her breath and took the first step. Sam took the next. All sound was drowned out by their footsteps as the two walked down the hall. Just when Mercedes was about to pass Sam, she couldn't help it, and looked up at him only to find that his eyes were looking elsewhere. And with that, he passed her as aloofly as possible. Mercedes stood still. Her heart stopped. It wasn't until that moment that she realized she had almost hoped Sam would say something, anything, to try and explain why he did what he did. Mercedes never expected the silence. Something broke inside her. Even so soon, Sam had gotten over her. Mercedes quickly walked into her class before the bell rang.

Sam stopped when he saw Mercedes at the end of the West Hall. He had taken his time to get to class, in the hopes that he would not see her. His heart could not take it. He knew if he looked into her eyes, all the things he wanted to tell her would come fumbling out. Mercedes took the first step. Sam followed. Just when they were about to pass each other, Sam closed his eyes and then opened them in the opposite direction of Mercedes. Sam waited till her heard Mercedes walk into her class. Then at that moment, he stopped and turned around.

* * *

Mercedes and Tina sat by themselves in the cafeteria.

Refusing to look up, Mercedes kept her eyes focused on her lunch and the sheet music for invitationals.

"You wanna go dress shopping tomorrow? That'll make you feel better," Tina said.

Mercedes looked up momentarily, to see Sam flicking peas with his fork at the cool table.

"I can't. My mom signed me up to work at the church carnival. I'm sorry," Mercedes said glumly.

"No, it's no problem," Tina said.

Tina turned around to see who Mercedes was looking at.

"…Maybe you should talk to him," Tina began.

"Who," Mercedes replied, as if she was kidding anyone.

"He's your boyfriend," Tina said.

"Was my boyfriend," Mercedes corrected, turning her eyes back to her tray. "And it's not my fault things are the way they are now."

Sam looked up from the table just in time to see Mercedes watching him. Mercedes quickly averted her eyes and got up. She walked out of the cafeteria.

Tina sighed.

"Hey."

Tine turned around to find Puck standing over her with his hands tucked in his pockets.

"Can I talk to you?"

…

"You took me to the make-out spot?" Tina said. She and Puck stood under the bleachers.

Puck looked around to make sure no one was listening in before turning back to Tina.

**Puck**: I never thought these words would come out of my mouth, but Sam and Mercedes are breaking my thug heart.

**Tina**: I know, it's horrible. But what are we going to do?

**Puck**: I don't know. There really isn't anything in the heartthrob handbook for a situation like this.

**Tina**: Can't Sam just say he's sorry?

**Puck**: This is Sam we are talking about. He's never apologized for slugging any man

**Tina**: Yes, but he hit Mercedes' dad! I think he can make an exception.

**Puck**: But he's not sorry.

**Tina**: What?

**Puck**: I know! We need to figure something out soon. The Homecoming game is in two days and Sam is a wreck. And honestly, if this goes on any longer, I don't see us making it to the invitational. Santana will kill Rachel before we make it out of Lima if MJ isn't there to hold her back.

**Tina**: We need a miracle.

* * *

When Mercedes closed her locker, she was taken aback to see Sam in front of her.

He scratched the back of his neck.

"Are you coming to rehearsal?" Sam mumbled nervously.

"I have a lot of homework. Santana can show everybody the steps," Mercedes replied, looking at the floor.

"Mercedes…Look at me," Sam whispered.

The low tone of Sam's voice sent shivers down Mercedes' back.

She slowly tilted her head up, looking Sam in the eye for the first time in days.

Sam was somewhat surprised by his own words. Though he had always been guiltily enamored with Mercedes' lips, he loved nothing more than to stare into her eyes, and it peeved him that he had not seen them in so long.

"Mercedes…I never meant to hurt you," Sam said.

Mercedes' face became uncharacteristically cold.

"You probably should have thought of that before you ruined everything," Mercedes replied.

"It's not my fault," Sam told her sternly.

"Oh, so your fists don't belong to you anymore?" Mercedes said, folding her arms.

"You don't know what happened," said Sam.

"So my father just got a busted lip on his own," Mercedes sarcastically.

"He should have gotten worse!" Sam said. Sam kicked himself on the inside, but it was too late to take his words back now.

Mercedes exhaled, her eyes beginning to fill up with tears.

"Sam, How can-! How can you be so-"

Mercedes stuttered as tears swiftly rolled down her face. She turned around, just as Sam reached for her arm.

"Don't!" Mercedes said, running away. Mercedes rushed into the music room, slamming the door behind her.

She took her seat at the table, quickly opening up the books.

"Are you alright?" Artie asked, watching Mercedes wipe under her eyes with one hand, and flip pages with the other.

"I'm fine. The weather is getting to me you know," Mercedes told him.

Artie touched Mercedes' hand to stop her from turning the pages of the book.

Mercedes looked into Artie's eyes. Mercedes averted her gaze so he would not see her cry.

Artie took out his handkerchief, and began dabbing Mercedes' face softly.

This only caused Mercedes to tear up more.

She fell into Artie's arms, weeping into his shoulder.

Artie, surprised by this, rubbed Mercedes back slowly as she put her arms around him. Artie hushed her soothingly.

Mercedes held Artie tighter. Artie leaned his head on Mercedes' neck. He closed his eyes and breathed in her flowery perfume… It took all his strength to remember that Mercedes was crying over another boy and he should not get lost in her embrace.

"It's alright," he said with his eyes still closed, combing her hair with his fingers.

Sam watched from the door window…

* * *

It was no surprise to anyone when only half of the show choir showed up for rehearsal.

Finn, Rachel, Santana, Kurt and Brittany sat in the choir room with Mr. Schuester.

"We should just cancel rehearsal. I could be campaigning right now," Santana said.

"This is a disaster," Kurt said, as Brittany spidered her fingers down Kurt's back, making him jump from his seat.

"What is she doing here?" Rachel asked.

"I'm here to support my man," Brittany said, kissing on Kurt's neck.

"You know what; we could use all the members we can get right now. Brittany you're in," Mr. Schuester said.

There was a knock at the door.

Quinn pushed the door open slowly. She motioned to Finn.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked.

Finn quickly glanced at Rachel before getting up.

Finn closed the door behind him.

"Hey," Finn said awkwardly, unsure of why his ex was talking to him.

**Quinn**: You have to do something about this

**Finn**: About what?

**Quinn**: Sam and Mercedes.

**Finn**: What's the big deal? I told Sam going with a colored girl would never work out.

**Quinn**: You're such an idiot, Finn.

**Finn**: What?

**Quinn**: It still hasn't occurred to you that maybe Sam and Mercedes being together is what made the show choir so successful in the first place.

**Finn**: What makes you think I care about this club's success anyway? You were the one that made me join in the first place.

**Quinn**: I did you a favor. You haven't been Lima's golden boy ever since Sam started dominating the field. As captain of the show choir, you became the most popular boy in school again. What makes you think Rachel will still want you, or any girl for that matter, when the choir goes under? Sam will still be the star quarterback. What will you be?

Finn had not considered this.

**Finn**: Why are you helping me?

**Quinn**: I'm not.

* * *

Puck quickened his pace to keep up with Sam.

"Coach is going to kill you for missing practice," Puck said.

Sam sipped on his beer. "So," he grumbled.

"Gimme that," Puck said, reaching for the bottle.

Sam jerked his hand away.

"No way man, get your own," Sam said.

Puck snatched the beer away. He downed the bottle in one big gulp.

"Whatever I got another one," Sam said.

"You have to stop," Puck said, as Sam took out another bottle from his gym bag.

"Why? You get drunk all the time," Sam said, opening the beer by de-capping it on a nearby fence.

"Didn't your dad have a drinking problem?"

Sam stopped and looked down at the beer. It seemed momentarily his senses came back to him. He handed the bottle to Puck, who finished that one as well.

Sam shook his head, taking a seat on the bench near the bus stop.

"I blew it, Puck. You told me not to lose my head and I did," Sam said glumly.

Puck took a seat next to Sam.

**Puck**: You still lasted longer than I would have.

**Sam**: …I can't get the look on her face out of my head. She just looked…horrified.

**Puck**: You should tell her what her dad said to you.

**Sam**: It doesn't make any difference. He's her father. Even if I told her, she'd still choose him. I'm just mad he won.

**Puck**: He didn't win. He crossed the line first. MJ just didn't see that part.

**Sam**: But I hit him. As soon as I did, this smile appeared on his face like he planned it. If MJ hadn't walked in, I would have hit him again.

**Puck**: …Did you see her today?

**Sam**: …Yeah. I tried to apologize and completely blew it. I practically pushed her into the arms of another guy

**Puck**: What guy?

**Sam**: [mumbling] Artie

**Puck**: Who?

**Sam**: [softly] Artie Abrams

**Puck**: …You lost your girl to the kid in the wheelchair?

**Sam**: Don't need the judgment right now Puck!

**Puck**: Right. My fault. On the bright side though-

**Sam**: What bright side?!

**Puck**: Tina let slip that Mercedes will be working at her church fair tomorrow… Seems like a perfect opportunity to declare your undying love.

Sam looked up from the ground.

**Sam**: Wait wait wait… You want me to sneak into a church fair, in the heart of Lima Heights, where we'll be the only two white faces, so I can try and win MJ back in front of all her family and friends?

Sam narrowed his eyes at Puck.

"Oh my God… You know me so well!" Sam said, the first smile in days appearing on his face.

The two boys guys hugged only to quickly push each other away

* * *

Mercedes sat in the kitchen with all her textbooks open.

Mr. Jones entered with his mug in hand. He opened the fridge to look for ice.

"What's that?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Homework," Mercedes said. "Just trying to get an early start on next weeks' assignments."

Mr. Jones gave a proud smile, going over and rubbing his daughter's back.

"That's my girl," he said.

Mercedes smiled back politely but halfheartedly. It was easy to see her father was taking the break-up better than she was.

Mr. Jones took a seat across from his daughter.

"You know… I was thinking we should take a trip. Maybe go to NYC. Do some holiday shopping. I know how my baby likes to shop," Mr. Jones said with a wink.

Mercedes smiled.

"That's okay dad. I'm not sure if my teachers will be alright with me missing more school with the invitational coming up and all," Mercedes said.

Mr. Jones cleared his throat lightly, something he always did when something displeased him.

"Well, I just assumed that you would be giving up this singing nonsense with that white boy not being in your life anymore," Mr. Jones said.

"Daddy… I like singing-"

"What have I told you?" Mr. Jones said, cutting off his daughter. "Singing is like breathing or walking – most everybody does it. Being a doctor or a nurse is an actual skill you have to master. You actually help people, you save lives. People who sing have to rely on someone for the rest of their lives."

"Dad I won't rel-

"What's the shelf life of a singer? Let's just say you do make it, and maybe a thousand people buy your album. That'll keep you financially secure for what? A few years and that's it. And you'll have no education to fall back on."

"I'm not saying I don't want an education, Daddy," Mercedes said.

"But this singing business isn't helping your grades any. I know you feel important singing here and there with those kids, but it won't last."

"I know. But they are my friends. That is my group." Mercedes said.

Mr. Jones leaned back in his chair.

"I understand. They're your friends and you want to be there for them. But your first responsibility is to yourself. Do well in school, and get an education."

Mercedes nodded.

Her father smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"No more talk of this show choir. I'm going to call the travel agent and see if we can get any deals," Mr. Jones said, getting up from his chair.

Mercedes watched him leave the kitchen without his ice.

Mercedes sighed, letting her face drop between her books.

When she closed her eyes she imagined Sam's face. She pictured them at the lake with the food on top of his head from when Artie chased him. Mercedes smiled. She had never laughed so hard before. Now that she thought about it… the happiest moments she could remember all involved Sam in some way.

New Directions was her group, but it was Sam who gave it to her. And it just didn't feel the same without him in it. The magic was gone.

Her mother assured her that heartbreak was hard and that it would soon pass away. But Mercedes wasn't even sure her heart was broken. It still beat as strong and loud for Sam since the day they met. Mercedes could not comprehend getting over someone she didn't want to get over. But she had to somehow…

* * *

"Hello Santana,"

Santana tilted her head from her locker to find Quinn Fabray standing next to her in the hallway.

"Fabray," Santana said unexcitingly, continuing to reapply her ruby red lipstick in her mirror.

Quinn took out an invitation from her folder, handing it to Santana.

"My Homecoming party is tonight. You're invited," Quinn said dully.

Santana scoffed at the little card.

"Celebrating your victory a bit early aren't you," Santana said, still looking at her reflection. She closed her gold tube of lipstick.

"I appreciate your dogmatic determination to be Homecoming Queen Santana, but…you do know you can't win," Quinn said.

"Really Fabray? You're going to try a psych me out the day before the game? Puck's cred gets me all the votes I need from the McKinley side," Santana said.

Quinn smirked.

"I'm not trying to trick you Santana. That's not how I play. I tell the truth, and the truth is none of the groups Puck represents vote. They're too cool for that. And Mercedes split your vote for Roosevelt. At best, you'll make third place."

Santana closed her locker.

"If that's true then why are you telling me this?" Santana said.

"We're not friends, but I know you Santana. We're the same. At some point in time you were the Quinn Fabray of Roosevelt High and you want it back…But I want you to take a good look at my life. I have no boyfriend and no best friend who cares. I'm alone. I just hope you think being Homecoming Queen is worth losing a friendship," Quinn said.

"Mind your own business," Santana said.

Quinn shrugged her shoulder.

"Fine," Quinn said, passing Santana.

"Wait."

Quinn turned around.

"Who…who's going to win?" Santana said.

Quinn held her books to her chest as she thought for a second.

"In a right-side-up world - Mercedes. In the real world… me."

* * *

"You want to what?"

"We are going to sneak into-"

"I heard you the first time!" said Finn.

It was the next day at football practice and Sam and Puck were explaining the plan to the rest of the guys.

**Finn**: This is a horrible idea.

**Puck**: It's badass

**Mike**: It's romantic.

**Finn**: Don't be a girl Mike

**Sam**: We'll just sneak in sometime during the middle so nobody will notice us.

**Finn**: EVERYONE will notice us. It's Lima Heights

**Sam**: I've been there before. It was cool.

**Finn**: That was just you. That's a lonely white man. No one will be intimidated by that. There'll be four of us.

**Mike**: I'm not white.

**Finn**: Shut up, you're whiter than I am.

**Puck**: Not lying.

**Sam**: We'll be alright.

**Finn**: How do I say this nicely? Sam you're the crazy one of this group. Your opinion cannot be trusted in any situation.

**Mike**: Although I do believe Sam is somewhat unstable, I do think this is a good idea.

**Puck**: Come on Finn! You don't want to be known as the wuss of the gang do you? Girls love dangerous men. What other guy on the team will be able to say they rolled into Lima Heights like it was nothin.

**Mike**: All the black ones…

**Puck**: Not my point.

**Sam**: Look, are you in or are you out Finn? We are either the four musketeers or the three kings.

The guys watched Finn contemplate before he finally frowned in defeat.

"Alright, four musketeers it is," Finn said.

"Yess!" the boys said, hugging each other.

"We are all queers," Finn said as they continued to embrace each other.

* * *

Mercedes knocked on the music room door before opening it.

Artie was sitting there waiting for her.

"Hey," Mercedes said softly.

"Hey," Artie replied.

The two looked at the floor in awkward silence.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. It was inappropriate," Mercedes began.

"No no. It's alright… I mean I can't get the smell of your perfume out of my shirt, but I like it," Artie said.

Mercedes smiled, taking a seat next at the table.

"Thanks," she said.

Artie twiddled his thumbs nervously.

"So… I was thinking," he started. "Maybe you'd want to hang out tonight or."

Mercedes raised her eyebrow in curiosity, making Artie ten times more anxious.

"Nevermind! You're busy. You're a busy girl I mean busy woman, lady, lovely young busy lady, you probably have lots of things to do"

"I have to work at my church's carnival after school-"

"Right! Right, of course. Yeah, that seems very strenuous. I have to ugh help my dad with dinner anyway" Artie said, nodding for each word he said nervously.

"You wanna come?"

Artie stopped talking.

"I mean, it won't be that hip. It's just a little carnival to raise money. I'll be working the ring toss booth," Mercedes said.

"Okay!"

He said it so fast, Mercedes barely heard him. She started chuckling as Artie's cheeks turned red.

"Cool," Mercedes said, smiling.

* * *

Detective Corcoran stepped out of the interrogation room, closing the door quietly.

A smug grin appeared on her face as she strutted to Chief Fabray's office.

She closed the door when she saw he was alone.

Mr. Fabray hung up the phone.

"Did you get him?" he asked.

"I got him," she told him.

"So it was Karofsky."

"I just got a confession out of his friend. I got motive and witnesses that say they saw him do it. That's enough to book him," Detective Corcoran said taking a seat, in front of Russell.

"Let's not do it yet. I know David's father. He's an upstanding guy. We will wait till tonight to bring him in. Then we can announce the arrest tomorrow."

"What? This kid is an arsonist and tried to attempt 1st degree murder. He should be dragged in the street. I don't care who is father is!" Shelby said.

"Babe, it's the politics of the job. We have to handle these situations delicately," Chief Fabray said.

"You don't know what Karofsky did to this girl. He should be rotting in jail, not having a comfy dinner with his family," said Shelby.

Russell got up from his desk. He leaned over Detective Corcoran's chair and kissed her softly.

"All in due time babe," he said.

Shelby smiled, kissing Russell back.

"Okay. How about I make us some fettuccini tonight?" Shelby said.

"Can't. I'm supposed to help my wife set up this party for Quinnie tonight." he said.

Shelby moved her face so Russell could not kiss her.

"Don't be like that. She's my wife. What do you want me to do?" Russell said, sounding exasperated.

"Nothing," Shelby said, picking up the file. "I'm going to find Mercedes and tell her the good news. Don't wait up for me tonight."

And with that Shelby left the office.

* * *

"Hmm this isn't as hostile as I thought it would be," Artie said, as he followed Mercedes through the carnival. Some people waved at them as they passed by.

Mercedes laughed. "What did you expect? It's mostly church folk," she told Artie.

"Right," Artie said, feeling stupid.

Mercedes arrived at her booth.

Artie helped Mercedes set up the quilts on the table stand.

Mercedes bent over.

"I can't tell if the sheet is even. Can you check?" Mercedes asked.

Artie bent over to look under the table.

Artie was treated to a full view of Mercedes bare legs and her virgin white underwear.

"So, what do you think?" Mercedes asked, checking the other side of the table.

"It uh umm," Artie said, clearing his throat, "looks good to me."

"Good," Mercedes said, straightening back up so she could start placing the empty soda bottles on the table.

* * *

"You guys look ridiculous." Quinn said, walking behind the boys.

Finn, Puck, and Mike were wearing sunglasses and their best hood clothes.

"Why don't you wait in the car Quinnie. This could be dangerous," Puck said, taking each step cautiously as he and the others passed by people playing at the booths.

"It's a church carnival, moron," Quinn said, rolling her eyes.

Puck's van had broken down again and Quinn had been commissioned to give half the boys a lift to the fair.

Puck and the others took off their sunglasses. Indeed, it was a serene environment, though some church folk were eyeing the boys suspiciously due to their awkward behavior.

"Let's split up," Quinn said, going off into another direction. Finn followed her.

"Aren't you on the wrong side of town white boy?"

Sam turned around.

Shane was at a nearby stand.

Sam placed his hands in his letterman jacket.

"And shouldn't you be rotting in a jail cell?" Sam replied.

Shane smirked.

"And yet, here we both are…Free men," Shane said.

"It's only a matter of time before the police figure out it was you," Sam said.

Shane smiled, folding his arms.

"Apparently, you didn't receive the good news. I'm innocent Evans. I got a call from the detective saying they got the real guy," Shane said. "It seems, for once, the law is working in the black man's favor."

"You're lying," Sam said.

Shane smirked.

"Ask Mercedes. Oh wait…I forgot you two weren't together anymore."

Sam clenched his fists and stood his ground in silence. He let Shane walk away from him. Sam had convinced himself that his fists had caused enough trouble. But this mature stance didn't stop him from imagining Shane getting run over by his truck.

* * *

Mercedes and Artie had a decent crowd in front of their station, as people bought rings to toss over the bottles for a prize.

"If I win, do I get a kiss from you sugar?" one freshman student from Roosevelt asked Mercedes playfully.

"No, you get a kiss from me. How bout it?" Artie said.

"Naw man, it's cool," the boy said as the others laughed behind him.

The boy tossed all three rings and missed. After some encouragement from his friends behind him, he bought three more. Mercedes laughed and applauded him as he tried again and again.

Santana, who had arrived not too long ago at the fair, watched at another booth as Mercedes entertained the crowd.

Her smile was as radiant as the sun as she encouraged people to donate.

Santana folded her arms and sighed. No matter how hard she tried to dislike Mercedes, she had to admit to herself that she was Homecoming Queen material which made her even stiffer competition.

The boy at the front of Mercedes' booth had finally run out of money and tries.

His friends patted him on the back as he shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment.

"As you can see I'm no athlete," the boy said.

Mercedes leaned in and chastely kissed the boy on the cheek.

"You're still my hero," Mercedes said. "Thank you for your donation."

The boy held his cheek and walked away with his friends cheering behind him.

"How much have we raised so far?" Mercedes asked Artie.

"Ten bucks," Artie said, counting the coins and bills.

"Not bad. Let's try for thirty," Mercedes said.

"If I win, do I get a kiss?"

Shane had just shown up at Mercedes station.

"We're closed," Mercedes said, closing the can of money.

"It doesn't look closed to me," Shane said.

"Well it is. So, why don't you move along," Artie said.

Shane ignored Artie.

"I heard about you and Sammy boy. My condolences."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Sure Shane," she replied sarcastically.

"No I really do feel bad about it. No black man will take you now," Shane said.

"I don't need a man," Mercedes said.

"Just half of one right," Shane replied, looking at Artie.

"It's better than a man with half a brain," Artie said.

"Be quiet Artie," Mercedes said. "Ignore him."

"You better watch your mouth professor X," Shane said.

"Will you leave us alone?!" Mercedes said.

"Is there a problem?"

Santana had appeared behind Shane.

"Mind your business San," Shane said.

"She said to leave them alone. What are you going to do Shay? Beat up a girl and a boy in a wheelchair? I bet you'll get all the homecoming votes after that," Santana said.

Shane rolled his eyes.

"Later," he said, walking away.

The two girls looked at each other in silence.

"I'm still mad at you," Santana said.

Mercedes remained silent.

"Thank you Santana," Mercedes said.

Santana averted her eyes

"Yeah sure," Santana said quickly going away to another booth.

"What was that?" Artie asked.

"An apology…I think," said Mercedes.

"Women," Artie said, shaking his head.

After another hour at the booth, Mercedes and Artie managed to raise forty dollars.

"We make a great team," Artie said as Mercedes counted the money.

Mercedes nodded.

"Yeah we do don't we," Mercedes said, handing Artie the toss rings.

"Mercedes."

Detective Corcoran stood behind Mercedes.

Mercedes stood silent, unsure of what to say.

"It's been a while, Mercedes," Shelby said calmly.

"Yes, it has," Mercedes replied politely.

"…I have news for you. Could we talk somewhere in private?"

Mercedes' stomach lurched.

"Oh, sure. Would you mind waiting here? I have to give this money to the pastor," she managed to reply calmly.

"Alright."

Mercedes walked off, not waiting for a reply from Shelby.

She needed to catch her breath.

She didn't know where she was going. All she could think of was the news Shelby had. Some part of her never wanted to find out who the person was who burned down the school. What if she knew them? She didn't want to put a face to dark creature in her nightmares. But deep down, Mercedes understood that she had to know, or she could never move on.

Mercedes had not taken ten paces before she bumped into Quinn who seemed just as troubled as she was.

"I'm so sorry- Quinn? What are you doing here?" Mercedes said.

"What were you doing talking to her?" Quinn said. Her eyes were red in resentment.

"To who? Shelby? You know her?" Mercedes asked in confusion.

Quinn's eyes glared over Mercedes' shoulder.

"That's the whore sleeping with my father," she said. Quinn's hands balled up into small fist, but what remnant of reason that her anger had not scorched prevented her from making a scene.

"What?" Mercedes said in disbelief, turning around. Shelby was still waiting at the booth. She had spotted the two young girls watching her. The detective wore a look of shameful defense, as she quickly turned her attention to the glass bottles in front of her.

Quinn exhaled, moving her stare away from Shelby and back to Mercedes.

"Sam is here," Quinn said. "Just thought I should tell you before he ambushes you out of nowhere. You know how he can be."

Mercedes snorted. Though her heart was aching over their abrupt break-up, Mercedes had grown to expect Sam's random, yet ironically, consistent behavior. He did what he wanted, no matter what. It was the best and worst thing about him.

"I know there's no excuse for what Sam did," Quinn said. "But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that fathers aren't always who they say they are."

"What your father has put your family through is the worst Quinn… but I know my dad. He's a good man," Mercedes said.

Quinn nodded.

"You're lucky," Quinn said.

Quinn left Mercedes who went to the stand where the pastor was, waiting for the donations.

The pastor thanked Mercedes volunteering. Mercedes smiled and nodded, though she did not absorb one word the pastor had said. Shelby was still waiting at the booth to tell her something.

Mercedes took her time to get back to the detective. She was still standing there.

Mercedes breathed in, walking back up to her.

"Okay," Mercedes said to Shelby as they walked over to an unoccupied bench. The two women took a seat.

Shelby still wore a mildly shameful look on her face.

**Shelby**: … First I just want to say I'm sorry about how I treated Sam. I received a bad lead, and I went with it. Sam just seemed so likely for it, but I should have done more digging.

**Mercedes**: It's alright. You're a police woman; it's your job to interrogate. I understand.

**Shelby**: Good… I want you to know I care very much about this case. And I care about you.

**Mercedes**: I know. Thank you

**Shelby**: I came here to tell you we found out who started the fire. We got him

**Mercedes**: …Who is it

**Shelby**: I'm not at liberty to tell you until he's indicted. I just wanted you to know, he won't ever bother you again.

**Mercedes**: Please… I know it's against the rules, but I have to know who he is…. Please

**Shelby**: It's David Karofsky. He's a senior at McKinley.

For the first time all day, Mercedes nerves remained as still as water. Her eyes narrowed.

**Mercedes**: David Karofsky? Are- Are you sure?

**Shelby**: We have two witnesses who says he did it

**Mercedes**: Umm… wow. I…

**Shelby**: I know it's a lot to take in

**Mercedes**: …Did he admit to it?

**Shelby**: We don't need his confession. The witness said David bragged about setting Roosevelt on fire to him and other friends.

**Mercedes**: Oh… That's… I just didn't really think he… Has he been arrested?

**Shelby**:… No. We are trying to keep this quiet, so we are going to bring him in tonight.

**Mercedes**: I see…

**Shelby**: If it was my decision, Karofsky would be in chains by now, but my boss-

**Mercedes**: Police Chief Fabray… Quinn's father.

**Shelby**: Yes… I'm sure Quinn has told you about the Chief and I

**Mercedes**: She did.

**Shelby**:...I'm not proud of myself.

**Mercedes**: Why would you sleep with a married man?

**Shelby**: You're still young. You'll learn you can't help who you fall in love with. Sometimes you just have to follow your heart.

**Mercedes**: I wouldn't follow my heart if meant hurting a family.

**Shelby**: Wouldn't you? Haven't you…

Shelby smiled sadly at Mercedes' confusion. "I'll call you when we have Karofsky in custody," she said.

Shelby got up from the bench…

* * *

The sky was uncommonly clear for an autumn night.

Mercedes and Artie folded the sheets and placed the glass bottles back in the boxes.

"It's a beautiful night," Artie said.

"Yes it is," Mercedes said, looking up at the sparkling stars.

Artie gulped. This was the moment he realized as he watched Mercedes gaze up at the sky.

"Mercedes?"

Mercedes looked down at Artie.

"Yes?"

Artie massaged his hands anxiously in his lap.

"I have something to tell you…" Artie said.

Mercedes turned to him.

"Okay."

"It's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but the time just never seemed right. It's actually pretty funny when you think about it," Artie said nervously.

Mercedes raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

"What is it Artie?" Mercedes said, putting her hand on her hip a quizzical smile forming on her face.

"I-"

"Mercedes"

Sam stood in front of the booth.

"Sam," Mercedes said.

"I need to talk to you MJ…please," Sam said.

Mercedes bit her bottom lip. She turned her attention back to Artie.

Artie, who usually always had a look of disdain in Sam's presence, just seemed crestfallen instead.

"…I was actually speaking with Art-"

Artie cut Mercedes off.

"No. It's alright. It wasn't important," he said.

Mercedes narrowed her eyes to her friend who seemed more agreeable than usual.

Artie looked up at Mercedes who seemed conflicted between the two boys.

"Go," Artie said. "I'll finish up here."

Though he wouldn't consider himself a spiritual person, Artie prayed a small prayer that he would get another chance to tell Mercedes what he wanted to say.

"Okay," Mercedes said, still wondering what Artie was up to.

Mercedes and Sam strolled quietly through the carnival while the church members packed up to leave.

"Quinn told me you were here an hour ago," Mercedes said.

Sam scratched the back of his head.

"Uh yeah, I maybe walked around the fair ten times before I got up the courage to talk to you," Sam said. "I'm sorry MJ. I really am."

Mercedes exhaled.

"…I know you are Sam, but you have to understand the seriousness of what you did. I have to choose my family over you. I mean, what else do you expect me to do? How would you feel If I punched your father?"

"I'd think it'd be cute," Sam said.

"Sam," Mercedes said her eyes narrowing coldly. "You know what I mean."

Sam nodded, placing his hands in his pockets.

"I know. You're right. And I'm not going to ask you to take me back…I just don't want to be remembered by you as that guy who hit your dad," he told Mercedes. "I hope one day you can forgive me."

Mercedes willed her brain to overpower her heart.

She closed her eyes.

"Sam… there are some things that time cannot heal…This is one of those things."

Sam's heart fell. He turned around, his back facing Mercedes.

Tears were inexplicably falling from his eyes. He had not cried since he was a little boy. It had been made clear to Mercedes that their relationship was over some time ago, but now Sam understood it too.

"Uh yeah- I'll see you at school-" Sam said quickly to prevent his voice from cracking. He walked away swiftly, keeping his back turned so Mercedes she could not see him.

Mercedes looked up at the sky.

"Lord, please give me the strength to let him go," Mercedes muttered.

By the time she had made it back to the booth, Artie had finished packing everything.

"Is everything okay?" Artie asked.

Mercedes nodded. "Yes…No" Mercedes said. "But it will be."

Artie didn't bother to inquire anymore.

Mercedes and Artie walked to the end of the park and put the boxes in the back of the church van.

Mercedes stayed with Artie, waiting for his parents to pick him up.

"Isn't that Finn?" Artie suddenly asked.

Mercedes looked up from her feet to see Finn wandering around the entrance, clearly lost.

Mercedes walked up to him.

"Finn, what are you doing here?" Mercedes asked.

"I'm looking for Quinn. She was my ride," Finn said, still looking around.

"She left," Mercedes told him, thought she did not bother to explain why.

"Great," Finn said sarcastically.

Mercedes didn't bother to tell him why Quinn left. It was no secret that Mercedes disliked Finn. She felt he was as loyal as a snake.

"You can take the bus. It'll be stopping here in about fifteen minutes," Mercedes said.

Mercedes meant to leave it at that, as she turned around, but something in her would not let the conversation end there.

"Detective Corcoran talked to you first, right," Mercedes said.

"Yeah," Finn said, narrowing his eyes. He looked down at his watch.

"What did you tell her?" Mercedes asked.

Finn looked at Mercedes.

"I can't tell you. Why do you wanna know?"

Mercedes shrugged her shoulders.

"Just curious. It's kind of funny how the detective found out about Sam's dad when you're the only one who knew."

"What are you trying to say?" Finn said.

"You set Sam up," Mercedes said.

Finn shook his head.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Finn replied.

"He's your best friend-"

"SHE KNEW ALREADY OKAY."

Mercedes took two quick steps back from Finn.

"Plus I knew he didn't do it, so he'd get out anyway. She just wouldn't leave it alone so I told her what she wanted to hear. Don't tell Sam," Finn said more calmly.

"How could she have known already…I mean she'd have to have sealed medical records or something" Mercedes said.

"Come on Mercedes," Finn said shaking his head. "You know."

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Jones sat in the living room. Mr. Jones had his legs crossed while he read the evening newspaper.

The front door opened, revealing their daughter who had just got back from the carnival. Mercedes closed the door behind her.

"Back already? Did you have fun?" Mr. Jones asked.

Mercedes remained silent.

"Are you alright?" Mrs. Jones asked her daughter who seemed slightly paler than usual.

"Did you do it Daddy?"

Mr. Jones lowered his newspaper.

"Do what?" he asked quizzically.

Mercedes' lip quivered. Her hands began shaking slowly as her eyes filled with tears.

"…Did you do it dad" she whispered.

Mr. Jones remained silent.

"Oh my god Daddy…please tell me you didn't," Mercedes begged softly; her father's silence was scaring her.

"What on earth is going on with you Mercedes?" Mrs. Jones asked as she looked between her husband and her daughter.

"Daddy, tell me please" Mercedes said.

Mr. Jones took off his glasses. He rubbed his temple as if he was trying to massage away a migraine.

"When you're older-"

"Your medical license gives you access to everyone's medical files. Even the police can't get files doctors can," Mercedes said.

"I'm only a dentist Mercedes. I look at teeth all day," Mr. Jones said calmly.

"But all your friends are doctors. Mr. Lopez could have given you the file if you asked him."

"Mercedes-"

"You tried to get Sam arrested," Mercedes whispered.

"What?" Mrs. Jones said.

"How could you!" Mercedes said.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" Mr. Jones snapped. "This is your fault!"

Mercedes couldn't believe her ears. Her father was standing up now and yelling down at her.

"You did this to us! You let that white boy mess up your life!"

"…He makes me happy. Why can't you understand that?!" Mercedes said.

"You're so selfish. You don't know what your actions have done to this family," Mr. Jones said.

Mercedes' looked into her father's eyes, unable to recognize the man she was facing.

"Lets all just calm down for moment," Mrs. Jones said.

Mercedes opened the front door.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Jones said.

Mercedes turned around. She left the house.

"You come back here!"

* * *

"We're out of appetizers Mom," Quinn said, rushing into the kitchen.

Mrs. Fabray chopped up little pieces of cheese as Quinn opened the oven to check on the pigs in a blanket.

"I forgot how much teenagers ate," Mrs. Fabray said.

"I think the whole senior class is here," Quinn said, straightening her dress.

"Don't stand here. You have guests to entertain. We need those votes," Mrs. Fabray said.

Quinn watched her mom decorate the plate with little cheese and crackers.

She went up to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thanks mom," Quinn said, before going back out.

All lot of the kids were surrounding the record player that was blasting the Beatles.

"Dance with me Quinnie!" one of the football players said over the loud music.

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Maybe later Chad," Quinn said, walking over to the front entrance.

Quinn opened the door for Mercedes.

From her shaking knees to her slightly disheveled hair, Quinn could tell something was wrong with Mercedes.

"Mercedes, did you walk here? It's fifty degrees outside," Quinn said, letting Mercedes in.

"Yeah, I'm sorry to bother you at your party. I'm looking for Sam," Mercedes said.

"He's not here. He left maybe an hour ago. He only stayed for about fifteen minutes," Quinn said.

"…Oh," Mercedes said. "Well, I should probably go find him."

"Wait."

Quinn put her hand on Mercedes' shoulder to stop her.

"Let's go upstairs for a minute."

…

"Did you know?" Mercedes asked as Quinn handed her a hot cup of tea.

Quinn sat on her bed next to Mercedes.

"I had my suspicions…," Quinn said.

Mercedes shook her head.

**Mercedes**: Why didn't Sam tell me?

**Quinn**: …Well, It's not…really the kind of news you want to break to someone about their father.

**Mercedes**: I just can't believe it. My dad has been my hero since I was a little girl.

**Quinn**: People think the scary part of life involves meeting new people. But really, its finding out that you don't know the people you've known your whole life.

**Mercedes**: What am I supposed to do?

**Quinn**: …Forgive your dad

**Mercedes**: {scoffing} Really, this coming from you? You're kind of the last person I'd expect to give merciful advice.

**Quinn**: {smirking} Maybe so. But you're not me…And in some twisted sort of way, what your father did was out of love for you.

**Mercedes**: I guess… But I still won't be able to look at him the same.

**Quinn**: Finding out your dad is human is just a part of growing up.

**Mercedes**: {smirking} You're pretty wise for a cheerleader.

**Quinn**: If that were true I would've picked a better boyfriend than Finn

**Mercedes**: Someone once told me you can't help who you fall in love with.

**Quinn**: That's what irresponsible people say.

Quinn stood up.

"I'll give you a ride to Sam's," she said.

Mercedes got up from the bed, following Quinn down the stairs.

"Are you sure? It's your party, you should stay," said Mercedes.

"I could let Puck drive you, but he's already passed out on the sofa," Quinn said, "And Brittany does have her license, but she likes to drive with her toes."

"I think I'll just let you take me," Mercedes said.

"That's what I thought."

…

Quinn took a right turn Main St.

**Mercedes**: Is it true you can sing?

**Quinn**: Maybe, why?

**Mercedes**: We need an alto to sing with us for the invitational.

**Quinn**: Oh Lord.

**Mercedes**: You seemed to really enjoy performing with us last-

**Quinn**: That was one time. I'm pretty sure there are plenty of singers in the school who could join the group.

**Mercedes**: Maybe, but how many of them aren't prejudice and get along with whites and negros?

**Quinn**: I don't know. I'm busy as it is.

**Mercedes**: You'd be doing us a big favor. I'll turn the other cheek if you hit Rachel.

**Quinn**: {smiling} As tempting as that sounds-

**Mercedes**: PLEEEEASSSEE!

**Quinn**: Geese! …Okay, If I do this for you, I want something in return.

**Mercedes**: What?

**Quinn**: I have an empty slot on the cheerios I need to fill, and I don't have the time or patience to run tryouts.

**Mercedes**: Okay so…

**Quinn**: You cheer for me, I'll go to invitationals.

**Mercedes**: Are you serious?

**Quinn**: {sarcastically} No, I'm joking because I'm the funny girl who makes everyone laugh.

**Mercedes**: I don't know…

**Quinn**: Don't tell me you're scared of crowds. You're in show choir for Pete's sake.

**Mercedes**: No…I just… All the cheerleaders are really thin…and mean. No offense.

**Quinn**: None taken. Well, think about it. It's my only offer.

Quinn pulled up to Sam's house.

"Good luck," Quinn said. "I think I changed my mind," said Mercedes as her heart pounded in her ears. "Get out," Quinn said, leaning over and opening the door.

Mercedes, against her will, got out of the car. Quinn drove off.

Mercedes fixed her hair.

She saw the lights on in the kitchen. They were probably just finishing dinner now. Mercedes worried what things they were discussing. Were they talking about her horrible her father was? Were they chastising Sam for his choice in women. The longer Mercedes stood there, the more horrific her thoughts became.

Just then someone opened the screen door. Mercedes hid behind the truck.

"Are you serious Mercedes?" she asked herself, in disbelief of her childlike behavior.

"Is someone there?"

It was Sam.

Mercedes could hear Sam's cautious footsteps move toward her.

Mercedes exhaled.

Be strong Be strong Be strong Be strong.

Mercedes stepped away from the truck and into the light from the porch.

Sam stood in front of her, holding a bag full of trash he was throwing out.

"Hi," Mercedes said.

He didn't move.

Mercedes swallowed.

"…I know I'm probably the last person you want to see," Mercedes began.

Sam kept silent.

"What my father did to you is unforgivable, and you have every right to be mad. And I know being with me hasn't been easy but if you could find it in your heart to-"

"Oh baby"

In what seemed in like the timespan of a millisecond, Sam dropped the trash bag, scooping Mercedes up in his arms. Mercedes gasped. She had never been held so tightly in her life.

"You came back to me," Sam whispered. Mercedes, somewhat in shock, pulled away gently from Sam so she could look into his eyes. They were a little blotchy but filled with love and excitement. Mercedes was amazed. He had already forgiven her. Or maybe, for Sam, there was nothing to forgive.

"I'm sorry," Sam said.

"Me too," Mercedes replied.

Sam tilted Mercedes' chin upward with his hand.

He smiled when Mercedes closed her eyes. Taking his sweet time, Sam first kissed the top of Mercedes' eyelids then her cheeks, slowly moving down to her waiting lips.

"Mela en' coiamin" Sam whispered.

"What does that mean?" Mercedes asked, but instead she received a kiss for an answer.

"What is taking him so long to put out the trash?" Mrs. Evans said, sitting in the kitchen chair, folding laundry.

Mr. Evans got up from the table to look out the window.

"Let me make sure he hasn't tried to drown himself in the pond," he said, peeping outside.

"That's not funny Dwight. Broken hearts take time to heal," Mrs. Evans said.

Mr. Evans clapped his hands together.

"HA! THAT'S MY BOY!" Mr. Evans cheered.

"What are you yelling about?" Mrs. Evans said, coming towards the window.

Mrs. Evans gasped when she saw her eldest son kissing his girlfriend near the truck.

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow! I thought I was going to have to remove all the sharp objects from the house," Mrs. Evans said, grabbing her heart in relief.

"See, I wasn't the only one who thought the boy was losing it for a while!" said Mr. Evans.

Mrs. Evans sat back down.

"I'm glad I was right about all this," Mrs. Evans said.

Mr. Evans turned around, giving his wife an indignant look.

**Mr. Evans**: What are you talking about? I was the one who said everything would turn out okay. You're the one who said we should go talk to her parents.

**Mrs. Evans**: And I still think we should. I know they've been only dating for a little while, but I think it's getting a bit serious. We should get to know who her parents are.

**Mr. Evans**: Mary, I know your intentions are good, but I have a feeling Mercedes' family has no desire in getting to know us, especially her daddy.

**Mrs. Evans**: I don't care. We have a responsibility to protect our children, and I don't want what happened to me and my family to happen to Sam and Mercedes.

**Mr. Evans**: We are not like your parents.

**Mrs. Evans**: But what about hers?

**Mr. Evans**: …I see what you mean, but I really think we should just let nature take its course.

**Mrs. Evans**: Alright then.

**Mr. Evans**: Hey now, don't be sayin "alright then" when you know you're going to call up her parents anyway.

**Mrs. Evans**: I'm a mother, I can't help it

**Mr. Evans**: Being a mother has nothing to do with it. You're just nosy.

**Mrs. Evans**: Says the fool staring out the window at his son.

Sam and Mercedes sat on top of his father's truck, looking at the stars.

**Sam**: …I heard they caught who burned down the school.

**Mercedes**: Yeah… They say it's David Karofsky.

**Sam**: Karofsky… Wow, I didn't think it was gonna be him.

**Mercedes**: That's what I thought. Don't get me wrong, he's seems like the psychopathic type, but… not really the kind to stick notes in someone's locker.

**Sam**: Well, at least they have him now.

**Mercedes**: …I still feel scared though.

**Sam**: That's natural.

**Mercedes**: Sometimes… I wake up coughing like I'm still choking on smoke. Not so natural?

Sam looked at Mercedes. He could tell the way she rubbed her hand that she was feeling vulnerable. Sam locked his fingers in with Mercedes'. "I know how you feel. I've been there before,"Sam said.

"Does it ever go away?" Mercedes asked.

Sam thought about it.

"Sometimes. It went away for me when I found something that scared me more than being burned alive," he said.

Mercedes looked at Sam.

"What's scarier than that?"

Sam smirked. He touched the gold name tags around Mercedes' neck, then playfully moved his finger across Mercedes' skin.

"You're not going to tell me are you," Mercedes said exasperatingly, as Sam leaned his head on her chest.

"Nope," he replied, sighing into Mercedes' bosom.

* * *

When Mercedes woke up the next morning she found two tickets to New York on her lamp desk. Not waiting to get dressed she went down to the kitchen where her father was sitting down.

Mercedes placed the tickets next to her father. Mr. Jones looked down at them. He sipped his coffee.

"I already called your teachers and they said you could miss the class time," Mr. Jones said.

"I'm not missing school to go to New York dad. I'm going with the show choir to sing at the invitational," Mercedes said.

"And when did we agree to this?" Mr. Jones said.

"I'm not asking you," Mercedes replied.

Mr. Jones looked at his daughter.

**Mr. Jones**: That boy has changed you and you don't even know it

**Mercedes**: I love him.

**Mr. Jones**: You're too young to know what love is. Love is sacrifice.

**Mercedes**: And what have you ever sacrificed?

**Mr. Jones**: You think it was easy, raising you and your brother?

**Mercedes**: We practically raised ourselves with you at the office all the time!

**Mr. Jones**: That's right I was at the office – day and night trying to make sure you had the best of everything.

**Mercedes**: I never asked you to do that.

**Mr. Jones**: I'm your father! You didn't have too! You've never even tasted desperate because I was there for you and this family.

**Mercedes**: I'm not saying you weren't!

**Mr. Jones**: Yet you still feel you have the right to judge me. I make the decisions in this house!

**Mercedes**: …You may be my father…but you don't own me.

Mr. Jones eyes widened in outrage as his daughter walked away from him.

Mercedes locked herself in her room until her father was gone.

When she heard the car engine start, she finally opened the door so she could get ready for school.

It was Homecoming, and she wanted to look her best. She picked out a white dress and red form-fitting sweater to go over it. Her hair was down in waves, finishing the outfit with a ruby red headband to match her sweater.

"I'm Red, white, and black, all the McKinley high colors," Mercedes joked.

She looked at her watch. The bus would be arriving soon; she had ten minutes to get to the stop.

Mercedes rushed down stairs. She had spent too much time on her outfit. She looked in the refrigerator for something quick to eat.

She now had seven minutes and it always took her eight to make it to the stop at Jefferson St.

The phone in the kitchen started ringing. She didn't have the time to pick it up. Grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl, she picked up her book bag and left, locking the door behind her.

Mercedes tried to walk as fast as she could, but her heels were slowing her down.

She assured herself that the bus was always two minutes late, which would give her the time she needed.

She peeled her banana and looked at her watch. As she walked past the Rutherford's house, she noticed an old blue car by the sidewalk she didn't recognize. She shrugged it off, taking a bite of the banana.

**Four minutes.**

The strange car had started moving behind her. Mercedes instinctively moved to the left side of the road so the car could pass her.

It didn't.

Mercedes moved more to the left and started walking faster.

**Three minutes.**

The car was right behind her, moving at a snail pace. She could feel the heat of the engine behind her legs. If this person was trying to run her over, they'd have to go a lot faster than that.

Whoever was in the car had turned off the engine.

Mercedes turned around.

Karofsky got out of the vehicle.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

Mercedes ran.

He followed her.

**Two minutes.**

David grabbed her. Mercedes swung her book bag at him, hitting him, in the chest. She managed to get lose from his grasp, but not fast enough to get away. Karofsky grabbed Mercedes by the ankle, pulling her towards him.

Mercedes ripped her necklace from her throat. Her first instinct was to try and cut Karofsky's face with it, but she instead threw it onto the pavement.

**One minute.**

Karofsky had Mercedes around the waste now, dragging her to the car. She wriggled and screamed as hard as she could.

No one was home, no one seemed to care.

"I have a gun in my jacket pocket. You scream one more time, I stick the gun in your mouth," Karofsky said.

Mercedes screamed even louder.

Karofsky hit Mercedes head against the car door. She went silent. David looked around in a panicked state, before stuffing an unconscious Mercedes in the back seat.

**Time's up.**

**To be continued… **


	11. Chapter 11

**New Directions: Lima, Ohio 1965 part 11 Homecoming Special part II**

**[ Thank you for nice reviews! After this chapter is the one where New Directions go to Dalton and meet Blaine and Sebastian :D]**

Mercedes stood on the toilet seat holding the tank cover over her head.

She watched the door, waiting for any movement.

At the end of all things, this was what it came down to.

Kill or be killed.

**EARLIER THIS MORNING**

Shelby woke up to the sound of the shower going in her bathroom

"Babe, you home?" she said, yawning.

"Yeah, I got back late!" Mr. Fabray called from the shower.

Shelby got up slowly out of bed, going to her mirror to look at her hair.

Just then the phone started ringing.

Shelby narrowed her eyes.

A phone call so early in the morning?

She waddled over to her desk, picking up the phone.

"Detective Corcoran speaking," she answered groggily.

"We lost him. We made it to his house, but he was already gone," a man's voice said.

Shelby rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Wait what?" she said.

The man's voice on the other end spoke more cautiously.

"We sent the patrol men over last night to pick up Karofsky, but it seems his dad gave him the tipoff. He was already MIA when we got there. We've been trying to get hold of the Chief all night. Have you heard from him?"

"YOU WHAT! I told you to follow that kid to make sure he wouldn't go anywhere! Jesus Christ! Have you sent a car to the Jones' house?" Shelby asked.

"We were so busy trying to get hold of the chief-"

"I don't want to hear your damn excuses Bobby! Do you not have a brain of your own?! Find Karofsky now!"

Shelby hung up the phone.

Russell came out of the shower with a towel wrapped his waist.

"What's wrong?"

"Karofsky is in the wind," Shelby said, pacing the room. "I knew we should have arrested him the moment we got the witness testimony."

"This isn't your fault," Russell said.

"I know it's not, it's yours! This is what happens when you give suspects special treatment. In Brooklyn we treated criminals like criminals, period, no matter who they're father was; not this bullshit you people pull down here," Shelby said, going to the phone.

She dialed Mercedes' house.

The phone kept ringing.

"Dammit," Shelby said.

"She could be at school already," Russell said.

Shelby, grabbed a coat from her closet, picking up her car keys.

"I'm going to her house."

Russell tried to calm his girlfriend down.

"She's fine. We don't know if Karofsky will try anything," he said.

Shelby left the bedroom. Chief Fabray followed her.

"I promised her she'd be safe, and that bastard is out there somewhere," Shelby said, walking out of the front door.

She slammed the door behind her.

* * *

Kurt closed his car door.

He took off his sunglasses and smiled to the girl who waved at him.

He was wearing a red blazer for Homecoming.

Two footballers nodded at him as he passed them into the front hallway.

Kurt nodded back coolly.

Other students acknowledged his presence respectfully as he walked to his locker.

He smiled.

After being elected to Homecoming court, people were finally noticing Kurt- in a good way. It also helped that he was dating one of the hottest cheerleaders in school.

Life was so good, he hardly felt something missing.

He opened his locker.

A card fell out.

_It's your day. Enjoy it prince._

_Love, Mercedes_

Kurt's smile momentarily dissipated.

He had forgotten about Mercedes. He wasn't even there for her when she and Sam broke up. But Kurt knew she'd understand he was busy; she always understood these things.

Kurt walked to Mercedes' locker.

Sam was waiting there.

Kurt put the card in his pocket.

"Sam, good morning," Kurt said. "I was just looking for Mercedes."

"That makes two of us," Sam said, looking at the clock on the wall. "She usually isn't late for school."

"Well, it is Homecoming. It takes some time to look like royalty," Kurt said.

This didn't seem to comfort Sam.

"…Yeah, maybe you're right," Sam said.

Kurt touched Sam's shoulder.

"Hey, I'm sorry to hear about you and Mercedes. Breakups can be tough," Kurt began.

"We're still dating," Sam said, keeping his attention on the clock.

Kurt moved his hand away from Sam.

"Oh! Really?" Kurt said, raising his eyebrow.

Sam looked at Kurt.

"Yeah…You got a problem with that?" Sam said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Kurt.

"No No, it's just she didn't mention it to me," Kurt said sweetly.

"Why would she mention it to you?" Sam said, matching Kurt's condescending tone.

Kurt smirked.

"You think you've got me pegged out Sam Evans, but you don't," Kurt said in a more serious tone.

Sam stuck his hands in his pocket.

The first period bell rang.

"If you see MJ, tell her I'm looking for her," Sam said, brushing shoulders with Kurt as he walked to his class.

* * *

Mercedes opened her eyes.

From what she could make out from her blurry vision, she was in what looked like some kind of cabin.

She moved her shoulders only to realize her hands were tied behind her back in a wooden chair.

As her eyes started to focus more she noticed David in the corner of the room sitting on the floor with a gun pointed at her. His hands wrapped around the gun were shaking and he was sweating.

Mercedes' eyes stayed glued to the pistol in his hands. She could tell Karofksy was as scared as she was, which didn't calm her any.

"Where are we?" Mercedes asked.

David's hands continued to shake.

"I'm not going to jail…I'm innocent," he said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

"…Would you please not point that at me?" Mercedes said fearfully, unable to take her eyes off the shaking gun.

David moved the gun a little to the left.

"I just wanted to talk to you, but you ran," David said.

"You tried to kill me. What did you think I would do?" Mercedes said, looking him in the eye for the first time.

"I never tried to kill you!" David barked, pointing the gun back at Mercedes.

Mercedes rocked in the chair, trying to get lose.

"HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE!" Mercedes yelled.

"There's no one around here for miles?" David said.

This shut Mercedes up. She stayed still in the chair.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked sadly, the doom of her situation finally setting in.

But Mercedes could tell that Karofsky had no plan. He had panicked under the pressure of the police, and now Mercedes had to pay the price.

"Just shut up okay," David said, remaining in the corner.

* * *

Shelby pulled up in the Jones driveway.

Another police officer was already there.

She got out of the car.

"What do we got?" she said, walking up to the front door.

"She isn't home," Officer Hagen said.

"What about the school?"

"Two squad cars were on their way down there," the Officer replied. "This girl probably isn't even lost."

"No… Something isn't right. We have to find Mercedes and Karofsky. And something tells me where one is, so is the other," said Shelby. "What about the neighbors? Have you questioned them?"

"Most of them are at work."

"Well then talk to the ones who aren't at work and ask them if they saw anything suspicious," Shelby said, checking her watch.

"Me and what army?" the officer said grouchily.

"Does it look like I care!" Shelby said, her New York accent emerging in the heat of the moment.

"You wouldn't be so crabby if you weren't making it with the chief all night," the officer muttered.

Shelby turned the officer around.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothin," the officer said.

"Bobby, I swear to God, you already lost Karofsky so you are one screw up away from riding the desk all year. I am your superior officer; you do what I tell you to do! Now suck it up, get your lazy ass in the fucking car and FIND ME A DAMN WITNESS!"

"Yes ma'am, I mean Detective," he said, getting into his car. As the officer got on his car radio to call for extra help, Shelby walked to the first house next to Mercedes' to see if anyone was home.

* * *

Mercedes couldn't know for sure, but she felt it was already passed noontime.

She wondered if anyone was looking for her.

They had to be looking for Karofsky at least.

"I need to use the restroom," Mercedes said, squirming in the chair.

"I can get a cup," Karofsky said.

"I can't pee in a cup. I'm in a chair. You'll have to untie me," Mercedes said.

"I don't think so. So you can run for the police," said David.

Mercedes exhaled, making her bangs above her eyebrows fly up in frustration.

"It's not like I'm going to try and run if you have a gun pointed at me. Last time I checked, only Superman is faster than a speeding bullet," Mercedes told him.

Karofsky thought about what she said, then went over and began to untie Mercedes' hands.

"There," he said.

Mercedes rubbed her aching wrists.

"Where's the bathroom?" Mercedes asked.

"There's one over there?" Karofsky said following Mercedes to the hallway.

Mercedes opened the first door, revealing an old bathroom with broken tile.

"Well…Do you mind?" Mercedes said.

She closed the door on Karofsky.

As soon as she did, she sunk to floor against the wall. She cried into her knees that were scraped from when she fell.

Her breathing was staggered as she tried to pull herself together.

"Hurry up in there!"

Mercedes got up slowly, walking over to the rusted bathroom sink. She turned the nobs, a slow trickle of ice cold water coming out. She cupped the water in her hand, sipping it then spitting it out.

She looked at herself in the cracked mirror. She tried to think, but fear was clouding her judgment. At that moment she regretted not letting Sam give her a ride to school in fear of what her dad would do, but what did that matter now.

Mercedes looked around the bathroom. She had hoped there would be a window somewhere in there, but there wasn't even a vent to let in fresh air.

"What are you doing in there?" Karofsky said from behind the door.

"I-I'm almost done," Mercedes said, flushing the toilet. She straightened her dress and opened the door.

* * *

"You look amazing, Santana," Puck said, scooting over to give her room to sit at the cool table.

It was lunch, and everyone was getting ready to take Homecoming Court pictures.

"Just wait till you see the dress I'm wearing for the dance."

"Has anyone seen MJ?" Sam asked, looking around the cafeteria.

"She wasn't in home room," Tina said.

Sam got up from the table.

"Where is he going? She already shot him down twice," Santana said.

"They got back together," Kurt said glumly.

"What?!"

"Yes!"

Puck and Tina slapped hands in triumph.

"Dammit! They couldn't wait till after Homecoming!" Santana exclaimed, getting up from her seat.

Puck followed her.

Santana went into the girls restroom.

She wiped the mascara under her eyes in the mirror.

Puck followed her into the restroom.

"Did you not see the girls sign on the door?" Santana said.

"Yeah," Puck said.

Santana wet some tissue and dabbed her eyes.

"You must think I'm crazy," Santana said.

Puck shrugged his shoulder.

"Well yeah, but most hot girls are," Puck replied, still confused as to why Santana was so upset.

Santana took a seat on the bathroom counter.

"Noah, have you ever wanted something so badly, you didn't care who you hurt to get it, even your best friend?"

Puck sat next to Santana.

"Once. My sophomore year…I made it with my best friend's girl," Puck said.

"…Quinn?" said Santana.

"Yup. I don't know, I thought I loved her. But maybe I just wanted what I couldn't have. Anyway, it was one time," Puck said.

"What did Finn do?" Santana asked.

"He never found out. Quinn got sent to a private school mid-semester. She came back junior year with a haircut and a nicer attitude. But she wanted nothing to do with me. She got back with Finn, and I didn't see the point in telling him," Puck told Santana.

Puck leaned against the mirror.

"What I'm trying to say is…I know how it feels to want more…and hate yourself for it," he said.

Santana looked at Puck.

She leaned in and kissed him.

"Let's go to the bleachers," Santana whispered seductively, getting up from the sink. She took Puck's hand, leading him out of the bathroom.

Puck silently "Yesss'd" as he followed Santana.

…

* * *

Artie breathed in through his nose then slowly exhaled.

It had been so many years since he had tried this. It had always seemed pointless to pursue it, but now he had a goal. He wanted Mercedes to look up at him, and finally see him as a man.

Artie pushed himself slowly up from the chair. Before he could lose balance, he grabbed onto the side of the piano.

Using his arm strength, he pulled himself up.

Artie stood.

He was mostly leaning on the piano for support, but it was the first time he was fully vertical in years.

Last night, he dug up his old braces to help support his legs when he decided to stand.

Sam knocked on the music room door.

When Artie saw who it was at the door he quickly flopped back into his wheelchair. He rolled over to the table and pretended to be reading.

Sam opened the door.

"Have you seen Mercedes?"

Artie scoffed.

"Evans, you'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to your neck," Artie said.

"And you'd get smacked if your legs weren't attached to that chair," Sam muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," said Sam. "Have you seen her or not?"

"Not," Artie said.

Sam started scratching the back of his neck.

"Okay. Thanks," Sam said, leaving the room.

Artie watched Sam leave. Artie never liked Sam, but now he actually had a legitimate reason to envy him. Sam had, in Artie's opinion, his girl. Artie would have never pictured his type being Mercedes, who was too sweet, too sensitive, and too short for his taste. But she grew on him and now, he didn't feel like sharing her with anyone else, least of all Sam Evans.

Sam walked back to the cafeteria.

People rushed past him with Red and Black banners for the pep rally.

Sam stopped.

Something didn't feel right to him.

Maybe Mercedes was sick in bed, or maybe she felt scared about taking the bus to school.

Sam kicked himself inside for not having a phone in his house.

Sam looked at the clock on the wall.

He'll just ask the front office if Mercedes showed up to class.

As soon as Sam turned around he bumped into Rachel.

She was wearing all red like most of the Homecoming Court.

"Hi Rachel," Sam said quickly.

"Fancy bumping into you like this," Rachel said.

"Yeah…fancy," Sam replied.

"It's funny how time flies doesn't it," Rachel said.

"Sure," Sam said, looking back at the clock.

"I mean only two years ago I was just the girl you used to flirt with at my father's drugstore, and now I'm going to be Homecoming Queen and you King maybe," said Rachel nostalgically.

"…I wouldn't have exactly called it flirting," Sam said, narrowing his eyes.

"Really? If I remember correctly, if you hadn't gone to that McKinley Roosevelt school dance, you'd be with me instead of Mercedes," said Rachel.

"Well," Sam said, brushing past Rachel, "Thank god for the dance."

When Sam turned the corner, two policemen were standing outside the principal's office.

"Shit."

Sam quickly ducked back behind the locker. He hated cops.

"Well, if you hear anything or he shows up to class please call the precinct as soon as possible," one officer said to vice principal Sylvester.

"I'll be sure to," she said, going back into the office.

The second officer looked at his watch.

**Officer 1**: You wanna head back now?

**Officer 2**: So we can get chewed out by the Chief? No way. Let's hang around for a bit.

**Officer 1**: Yeah, it's been awhile since I caught the Homecoming game.

**Officer 2**: You think we'll find Karofsky?

**Officer 1**: Not a chance, if the kid was smart he would be halfway to New York City.

**Officer 2**: IF he were smart. The boy is a moron; why else would he incriminate himself by bragging to his buddies that he burnt down the colored school? Mark my words that boy is still in town somewhere, crying like a little baby all by himself.

**Officer 1**: Maybe so. But Paul Karofsky is a smart man. He probably has his son set up somewhere nice while this whole investigation blows over.

**Officer 2**: Believe you me, this isn't going to blow over. The negros are in an uproar over that school, and they want justice. Bout half this town is black. No matter what the mayor thinks about race, he can't ignore half the tax-paying citizens of this town. Negro money is still green.

**Officer 1**: Ain't that the truth.

Sam quickly turned the corner when the cops passed. He hurried back to the cafeteria. Quinn, Mike, Tina, and Kurt were the only ones still sitting at the table.

"Are you ready? Pep rally starts in a couple of minutes," Quinn said.

Sam didn't respond.

"You look pale Sam," said Mike.

"Karofsky…He's missing," Sam said.

"Good. That guy gives me the creeps," Tina said.

Sam shook his head.

"He's the one who burned down Roosevelt," Sam said.

Kurt stopped adjusting his tie.

"W-what?"

Everyone turned to look at him.

"H-he's the one who tried to kill us?" Kurt said. Kurt looked at the burn scars on the inside of his hands. He had tried to forget about it, but the fire was still too real for him.

"The police told MJ yesterday," Sam said.

"But why isn't he in jail?" Tina said.

Finn had just arrived at the table.

"We're going to be late you guys," Finn said, who was already wearing his football jersey

"Karofky's missing," Quinn said. "And he's the one who burned down the school."

"Karofsky?" said Finn, "Wait how? Nevermind. Let's hurry up."

Everyone got up from their seats.

"Mercedes didn't show up to class today," Sam said.

Everyone stopped moving.

Kurt, who seemed lost in his own thoughts, was suddenly pulled back to reality.

"She never showed up?" Kurt said.

They all seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"You guys, she's fine. If she were in trouble, we'd know by now," Finn said.

"No, we wouldn't. The only thing the cops do is cover their asses," Kurt said.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the audacity of Kurt. For once, they agreed on something.

"I should go find her," Sam said.

"I'll come with you," Kurt said, taking out his car keys.

"HOLD ON WAIT A MINUTE!" Finn said.

"Let me get this straight. You two wanna ditch Homecoming to look for Mercedes, who isn't lost at all and is probably just under house arrest because of her dad."

Everyone stood still.

"Uh huh, yeah. You forgot about her crazy pops didn't you," Finn said, feeling mentally superior for the first time in his life.

"I didn't think about that. Her dad was pretty mad after you hit him," Tina said.

"Yeah, he probably didn't want Mercedes being partnered up with Sam for Homecoming King and Queen," Kurt said.

"See. You can call her after the pep rally," Finn said.

Mike put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Mercedes is probably fine," he said.

The group walked to the gym.

* * *

Mercedes sat with her hands free in front of her. She had managed to convince Karofsky not to tie her back to the chair.

The longer Mercedes sat in the wooden chair, the more she understood that Karofsky had no plan whatsoever for her. The two of them just sat there in the cold cabin, staring at each other.

"If I go outside to get some firewood, will you try to run?" David asked.

"Yes," Mercedes said, so annoyed with the situation she didn't see the point in lying.

"Then we are going to sit here and freeze then," he said stubbornly.

Mercedes could tell Karofsky was colder than she was and at some point he have to make a fire or turn on the kitchen oven. And when he did, she would make a dash for it…or push his head in the oven.

All she had to do was stay awake, which wouldn't be a problem with David's gun still pointed at her.

* * *

Detective Corcoran knocked on the Evan's screen door.

"Down here!" Mr. Evans said.

His head was under the hood of his truck.

Shelby walked down from the porch to the side of the house where Mr. Evans was.

She walked up to Mr. Evans, who closed the hood, and wiped grease stained hands on his wife-beater.

"I'm Detective Corcoran," Shelby said, holding her hand.

Dwight did not hold out his.

"I know who you are Detective. You should be thanking God my wife's at work and not here," he said.

"I deserve that. How I treated your son was uncalled for," Shelby admitted.

"Is there something I can help you with? I have a lot of work to do," Mr. Evans said, crossing his arms.

"Yes," Shelby said, taking out a plastic baggy from her back pocket.

"Does this belong to you?"

Shelby handed the bag to Dwight who took it. There in the left corner of the baggy laid his two world war II dog tags.

Dwight's face turned grave.

"Where did you get this?" he said.

"I found it this morning on the pavement on Jefferson St. where Mercedes Jones was last seen," said Shelby.

Dwight had not moved his eyes away from the tags.

"My son gave them to Mercedes when they started going steady. She…She never takes them off," Dwight said. "Where is she?"

"I've never seen her wear them," Shelby said.

"Her father doesn't like it, so she usually has them tucked behind her blouse. You didn't say where she is," said Dwight.

"I was hoping she was here," Shelby told him. "That maybe she and Sam were hiding from her father here."

Dwight shook his head.

"Sam is at school. What's going on?"

"We suspect that Dave Karofsky may have…taken Mercedes," Shelby said.

"David. Paul Karofsky son? Why would he do that?" Dwight asked.

"…Because he's responsible for the fire that burned down Roosevelt and the death threats sent to Miss Jones," Shelby explained.

"And now he's got her," Dwight said.

"We're going to find her sir," Shelby said. "You've been a big help."

"Have you told her parents yet?"

Shelby exhaled. "We weren't sure that she was missing until now."

"I'll tell them," Dwight said.

"Thank you."

* * *

Karofsky now had one hand on the gun and one stuffed in his jacket pocket as he sat in the corner. Both he and Mercedes' breath could be seen in the cold

Mercedes legs were completely numb and she started to doubt if she could actually make a dash for the door if the opportunity ever came.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"What?"

Mercedes blew on her hands.

"You said you wanted to talk to me. What did you want to say?"

Karofsky took out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Doesn't really matter now does it. I'm fucked," he said, lighting the cigarette.

Mercedes' heart sank.

If Karofsky had given up hope, then there was no hope for her.

"That's not true," Mercedes said. "No one knows you've taken me…If you let me go, we can both go our separate ways and never speak of this again."

Karofsky scoffed.

"Yeah right. You'll talk," he said, pointing the gun lazily at Mercedes. "Why would a nigger pass up the opportunity to get back at a white man?"

Mercedes swallowed, keeping her eyes on the gun.

"I have no interest in revenge," Mercedes said. "I just want to go home."

"Well you can't!" Karofky said, puffing on his cigarette. "My life is over and it's all your fault!"

"How is it my fault?" asked Mercedes. "Wasn't it your friends who ratted you out in the first place?"

"They would never do that!"

Karofsky was standing up now.

"It's the truth," Mercedes said with her eyes shut.

Karofsky started pacing the room.

"You're lying," Karofsky said.

"How else would the police know? No one knows what really happened at Roosevelt except for you and whoever you told."

Karofsky sat back down.

"I-I don't know what happened," he said, rubbing his forehead.

Mercedes opened her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Mercedes said.

Karofsky puffed his cigarette.

"I mean like I don't even know if I did it. I was there. Me and the boys were just messing around after school. I was drunk and high, and one of the boys was going on and on about how those coloreds at Roosevelt showed us up at the game. We made jokes about smoking them out of the school. We filled an empty liquor bottle with some kerosene and had a rag stuffed into it. Eddie gave me the lighter and dared me to do it. I went around back where nobody was around. But I remember my hands were shaking like crazy and I felt like throwing up. Then I blacked out. When I woke up, I couldn't breathe because of all the grey smoke. So, I just ran before the cops showed up."

Mercedes opened her mouth to say something, but her brain was going too fast to verbalize what she was thinking.

"Wait…You were outside the whole time?" Mercedes asked.

"Yeah," said David from the parts I remember. "I just told my buds I did it."

"No… I don't understand…But what about the locked basement door? What about the notes?" Mercedes said.

"What notes?" said David.

* * *

Sam's knees shook anxiously in his seat.

Finn's and Kurt's did too, but for completely different reasons.

It was the middle of the pep rally, and Principal Figgins was about to announce the Homecoming King.

"Forget this," Sam said, getting up from the front row.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Finn said.

"Something isn't right. I can feel it," said Sam. "I have to go find her."

Finn stood up.

**Finn**: God, what is up with you and that girl?! Mercedes this, Mercedes that. She's just a chick, and a black one at that.

**Sam**: Shut up Finn.

**Finn**: You're wasting your time with her. I'm just telling you the truth.

**Sam**: You wanna talk about truth? Here's some truth for you buddy. Rachel does not give a shit about you. She's making it with you so she can be Homecoming Queen. Everyone in the whole damn school knows it but you.

**Kurt**:{clearing his throat} Guys.

**Sam**: She chased me for two whole years then all of a sudden she's wants you? Come on!

**Finn**: She moved on to bigger and better things.

**Sam**: You're an idiot.

**Finn**: At least I can read a book without pictures in it.

**Sam**: Fuck you

**Kurt**: Fellas. Please.

**Finn**: Fuck you!

**Sam**: You've changed into a selfish jerk! All you care about is the being a jock and a cool kid. And you know what, you're kinda fucking racist!

**Kurt**: Guys!

A lot of the crowd had turned their attention towards the bickering boys.

Finn smiled sadly, shaking his head.

"You still don't get do you," Finn said. "I never changed… I've always been this way. You changed man. She changed you."

Principal Figgins' voice echoed over the gym as he spoke into the microphone.

"AND YOUR MCKINLEY HIGH 1965-66 HOMECOMING KING IS…FINN HUDSON!"

The crowd cheered but Sam and Finn ignored them. The two best friends stood there looking at each other.

"I'm done," Sam said.

"We've been done," Finn replied, before walking to the middle of the floor to receive his crown.

Sam walked out of the gym.

The first person he bumped into was Puck who had big goofy smile on his face. He had red lipstick smeared on his lips and he was tucking in his shirt

"Holy shit, Sam, you would not believe what I just did under the bleachers," Puck said. "This may be the greatest day of my life."

"Dude, I'm bailing the pep rally. I'm have to find MJ," Sam said.

"I'll ditch with you. I already got what I wanted today. I don't wanna ruin the high," said Puck, walking with Sam.

Just then Santana turned the corner.

"Hey sweetness…Who died?" Puck said, noticing the grim look on Santana's face.

Santana turned her eyes to Sam.

"You have to hear something," she said.

Santana led Sam and Puck to the front office where secretaries were gathered around a small radio set to the local town station.

"**It's just been confirmed by the police that David Karofsky, son of local businessman, Paul Karofsky, has abducted McKinley High student, Mercedes Jones. **

**Mercedes Jones, an honor student, helped put Lima on the map with the popular show choir, the New Directions. Mercedes Jones was also in the infamous school fire that destroyed McKinley's colored sister school, Franklin Roosevelt High. Evidence has just been released that places Karofsky and others at the scene of the school fire. **

**Miss Jones was last seen this morning before being taken away in a blue car owned by Karofsky. There have been no developments in finding where Miss Jones is being kept."**

Sam's face scrunched up in confusion. It was as if the radio was speaking some kind of foreign language to him.

"No," Sam said shaking his head. "Not MJ. She's…She's at home. Her dad won't let her go anywhere. My… My Mercedes is too damn scrappy to get kidnapped."

Santana and Puck patiently watched Sam's denial slowly unfetter as he comprehend the reality of the situation.

Sam felt woozy. He quickly leaned against some nearby lockers, covering his face with his hand.

"I should have- I should have been there. I should have gave her dad the finger and just taken her to school. DAMMIT!"

"Why are they just broadcasting this?" Puck asked.

"The police say she was abducted this morning, which means she could be anywhere by now. They don't even know if she's aliv… if she's okay," Santana said.

Sam raised his head, looking at Puck and Santana.

"She's alive. What are you guys talking about? She's alive! MJ would never die, because she knows I'd kill her if she did!" Sam said. "She's alive and waiting for me to come get her. And when I do, she's going to chew my ass out for being late."

Puck nodded, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"You're right," Puck said reassuringly.

Puck could tell beyond Sam's optimism he was panicking inside. Puck looked at Santana, who seemed to understand him without words.

"She'll be okay, Sam. Bring her back to us," Santana said, nodding.

"Let's go. I'm driving," Puck said.

He and Sam left out of the nearest exit.

…

* * *

Puck sped through three red lights as he drove his van down Main Street.

Sam didn't wait for the Puck to stop when they arrived at Sam's house.

Sam jumped out of the van.

"DADDY!" he called.

Before Sam could even make it to the porch his dad came out of the house with his shot gun loaded and ready.

"We're takin the truck. You're driving," Mr. Evans said, throwing Sam the keys. "Noah, head back to school, and tell us if there's any change."

Sam got in the front seat and started the engine.

Sam and Mr. Evans sped out of the yard.

"Where we going dad?" Sam said, taking a right turn.

"Where gonna pay Paul Karofsky a little visit," Mr. Evans said. "Take this street."

* * *

The sun was starting to set in the cabin.

A small blue beam of light from sky was the only thing lighting the room.

"You want one?" Dave asked, holding up a cigarette.

"No, thank you. I don't smoke," Mercedes said. It was hard for her to keep her eyes open. The night had made it much colder in the room.

Dave smirked.

"I guess you really are a goody good as they say," he said, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag.

He got up to look out the window on the opposite side of the room.

"I…I think it's time for you to let me go," Mercedes said.

Karofsky dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it slowly.

"I can't. Even if I'm innocent…If the police find out I took you, I'll still go to jail," he said.

"Not if you let me go," Mercedes said.

But she could hear it in Karofsky's voice that he had made his mind up already. He was going to kill her. He was just waiting for the nerve to do it.

Mercedes' time had run out.

"Go outside and get some firewood," David said, holding the gun to Mercedes's chest.

Mercedes turned around, walking slowly to the door.

She hated the idea of the gun pointed at her back.

Karofsky opened the door for her.

The cold wind hit their faces. Not too far from the cabin was a lake and a big house, but Mercedes could not tell if they were still in Lima.

Mercedes felt the tip of the gun touch her back.

"Pick up the wood," Karofsky said.

Mercedes bent her knees slowly, picking up a small twig here and there.

Every time she felt the gun move on her back, she braced herself to be shot, and sighed of relief inside when nothing happened.

Mercedes purposefully dropped some of the twigs on the ground, slowly picking them up again.

Time was everything.

* * *

"Afternoon Paul," Mr. Evans said.

The maid had let Sam and his father in.

Paul Karofsky met them at the stairwell.

"Dwight. It's good to see you," Paul said politely.

"You've grown a few more grays there," Mr. Evans said cordially.

Paul put his hand through his silver hair.

"Yeah well, your offspring will do that to you."

"Speaking of offspring. I was wondering where your son might be," said Mr. Evans.

Paul shook his head.

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told the police. I don't know. I saw him this morning and that was it," Paul stated firmly.

The cordial smile still remained on Mr. Evans' face.

"Son, wait in the truck," Mr. Evans said.

Sam walked out the entrance, closing the door behind him.

Mr. Evans' voice remained calm.

**Mr. Evans**: Now Paul. I know you know where your boy is.

**Paul**: I do not.

**Mr. Evans**: Yes, you do. You're a father. You'd do anything to protect your boy, just like I'd protect my two boys. But now someone's life is at stake. So, you need to tell me where he is.

**Paul**: I don't know Dwight.

**Mr. Evans**: You know the girl he's got is my son's girlfriend.

**Paul**: That's what they say. Old Dwight Evan's eldest boy has got himself a colored girl.

**Mr. Evans**: She's a good girl. Maybe if your son had one of his own, he wouldn't have turned out so rotten.

**Paul**: How dare you insult my son Evans.

**Mr. Evans**: You're gonna tell me where David is now. And if you don't, and I find out a hair has been touched on that girl's head, I'll shoot your son, and then I'll burn this lovely house to the ground with you inside. And you know I'll do it Paul. I don't mind going back to the asylum. The beds are comfy there.

**Paul**: I'm calling the police.

**Mr. Evans**: They won't make it in time to save you.

**Paul**: He's my son Dwight.

**Mr. Evans**: Yeah well Mercedes Jones is somebody's daughter. Now tell me where David is.

….

Mr. Evans got back in the truck.

"Did he tell you?" Sam asked.

"Yep," Mr. Evans replied.

"How'd you do it?" Sam said in amazement.

"I asked nicely," Mr. Evans said with a straight face. Sam started the engine.

* * *

"What's going on?" Kurt said.

He, Brittany, and Santana were driving around in his car.

There was a group of colored people passing out flashlights.

"The church made a search party for Mercedes," Santana said.

Kurt parked on the side of the road.

"Let's help them," Kurt said.

The three got out of the car. Kurt got a flashlight out from his trunk.

The streets were quiet, except for the loud cheers coming from the football field. The game had almost reached halftime.

"Sounds like we got a touchdown," Santana said, putting on her coat.

"Sounds like it," Kurt said, closing his trunk. He switched on the flashlight. Brittany took his arm.

"Where do you wanna check first?" Santana asked.

Kurt and Santana thought about it.

"What about the school that burned down? Don't bad guys always return to the scene of the crime or something?" Brittany said absentmindedly.

Kurt and Santana looked at each other.

"That's actually not a bad idea," Santana said, in a surprised tone.

* * *

Sam and Mr. Evans pulled up to Paul Karofsky's lake house.

The police were already there. It was a two story brick house with a concrete driveway.

Detective Corcoran had managed to get a hold of Paul's bank records and all his real estate was listed.

Sam and Mr. Evans got out of the car.

"How'd you get here?" Detective Corcoran asked, who already had her gun out, ready to search the property.

"I have my methods," Mr. Evans said.

"The police have this under control," she said, as two armed officers followed her to the front door.

"YOU!"

The police held Mr. Jones back as Sam was being restrained by his father.

"You asshole!" Sam said.

"I hope you're happy. Now my daughter's kidnapped and it's your fault!" Mr. Jones said.

"This never would've happened if you weren't such a bigoted jerk off! All you care about is your stupid job. You couldn't even drop Mercedes off at school!" Sam said.

"GUYS!" Shelby said. "No one is to blame. You wanna slug this out? Do it after we get Mercedes?"

The police let go of Mr. Jones, who straightened his tie.

"I've had enough of this nonsense. As soon as I find Mercedes, I'm enrolling her in boarding school a thousand miles from you," said Mr. Jones.

"Do it and we'll elope," Sam said.

Mr. Jones laughed.

"Boy you're dumber than cardboard. You've got absolutely nothing to offer my daughter. I'm her father," Mr. Jones said

"Yeah, we'll see who she chooses," Sam said.

"ENOUGH! Sam come here," Mr. Evans said, taking Sam off to the side.

"Elope? Boy I oughta smack you upside the head," Mr. Evans whispered.

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"I meant it. He can't take MJ away," Sam said stubbornly.

"Shut up boy. Who taught you to talk to an adult like that?" Mr. Evans, though he was secretly pleased on the inside.

"Officer, escort these two men off the premises," Detective Corcoran said.

"You heard her," the officer said, motioning for Sam and his father to leave.

Two officers went around the back of the house, while Detective Corcoran and two other officers, kicked open the first door.

The officers went inside/

Sam, Mr. Evans, and Mr. Jones watched from thirty yards away.

It was too quiet.

Two minutes later the Detective walked outside.

"It's clean. No one's been here," she said.

"It can't be," Mr. Jones said.

"Dammit," said Shelby.

Sam and Mr. Evans watched from the sidelines as the detective chewed out her team.

"Mr. Karofsky must've lied about where Dave was," Sam said.

"…Not necessarily," Mr. Evans said.

Sam looked at his father, whose eyes were looking in another direction.

"You see about a thousand yards off? It looks like a wooden cabin," said Mr. Evans. "There's smoke coming out of the top."

"I see it," Sam says.

"Get in the truck."

* * *

"This place gives me the creeps now," Kurt said, as he walked through the blackened halls of Roosevelt High.

"Yeah, me too," Santana said.

"It's so sad, Kurt. When is the man going to leave your people alone?" Brittany said glumly.

Santana narrowed her eyes and shook her head at Kurt's girlfriend.

"I need some air."

Kurt walked out of the side exit, where the door was now missing.

There was a bunch of debris on the ground the police had thrown out of the school. Burned desks, books, tables.

Kurt walked on top of it till he made it to the back corner where there was a small patch of grass.

Though it was completely against his nature to wrinkle his suit, he took a seat on a broken chair.

He looked up slowly at his school and sighed. A few tears rolled down his cheeks.

Kurt never had the opportunity to grieve over the fire. Now was as good a time as any to weep over it. Everything changed when the fire happened.

Santana walked across the wreckage on the ground.

Kurt quickly wiped his tears away so she wouldn't see.

"Life, huh," Santana said to him. She offered Kurt a cigarette. Kurt shook his head. Santana took out a lighter.

"Do you think she's alive?" Kurt asked.

Santana blew out some smoke and moved her hair from her shoulder.

"She has to be. God wouldn't let someone that sweet die before me," Santana said.

Kurt scoffed.

"I stopped believing in God when I was four," he said harshly. "A just God wouldn't let something like this happen."

"If God controlled everything we humans did, essentially he'd be Hitler," Santana said.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I find it interesting how your brain works Santana," he said.

"Not as interesting as your girlfriend's I imagine," Santana said.

The two friends smiled.

"She's pretty though," Kurt said.

"So is Mercedes," Santana said, putting out her cigarette.

Kurt lowered his head. He started picking at a blade of grass below his feet.

"Sophomore year, I made Mercedes promise me something, a promise she never told anyone else...She's… She's kind of been the only woman in my life since my mom died…And… if she's gone Santana…I don't think I'll ever get over it."

Santana huffed, leaning against Kurt's chair.

"Where's liquor when you need it," she said.

Kurt let out a tiny laugh.

"Right," he said.

"Wait, wait. What is that? Have you been holding out on me Hummel?" Santana said, picking up a beer bottle poking out from the debris.

"That's not mine," Kurt said, as Santana looked at the bottle.

"Christ. It's not even liquor," Santana said, removing the rag and the cork of the bottle. She smelled it then threw it away.

"Let's find Brittany and head back to campus," decided Kurt.

* * *

Mercedes finished making the fire.

Karofsky stood near it, warming his hands.

Mercedes stood far away from the fireplace in the corner.

If she was going to die, she wanted to feel as numb and cold as possible.

Karofsky moved away from the fire. He stuck his right hand in his pocket. When he did not remove his hand, Mercedes knew it was because he was holding the gun.

Mercedes froze. She wasn't one to stand still and let herself die, but she also did not want the last moment of her life to be her running and being shot in the back.

Karofsky started to remove his hand slowly from his pocket. Mercedes shut her eyes.

"I have to pee!"

David stopped.

Mercedes opened her eyes slowly.

"Please, I have to use the restroom," Mercedes said.

Karofsky, though slightly suspicious of Mercedes, kept his gun in his pocket.

"Um, okay. But make it quick."

Mercedes rushed to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She went over to the right of the door hinges where the toilet was. Slowly, she took off her shoes then gently closed the toilet lid. Even more delicately she lifted the heavy ceramic tank cover over her head with both hands, as she stood on top of the toilet seat.

She didn't care how long it took. She was going to stand in that position till Karofsky walked through that bathroom door.

…

When they made it halfway to the property, Sam and his father, got out of the truck and walked quietly to the cabin.

They were twenty yards from the front door.

Mr. Evans motioned that he would go around back.

…

Karofsky checked the bullets in his gun then looked at his watch.

"What the hell is she doing in there?" he said to himself, before walking to the end of the hall where the bathroom was.

"Hey, hurry up in there!" he called.

No one replied.

Mercedes made as little noise as possible. Her arms were getting tired of holding that position with a heavy tank cover in her hand, but she needed to stay that way until Karofsky's head came through that door.

Mercedes held her breath.

David narrowed his eyes.

"Did you hear me?!" he called again.

No one replied.

He leaned his ear toward the door to hear what Mercedes was doing on the other side. Perhaps she was crying or washing her hands.

Mercedes opened her eyes when she started to hear the doorknob turn.

Karofsky opened the door slowly, peaking his head inside.

"Hey, what're you doing in-"

Mercedes smashed the cover over Karofsky's head.

Her biggest hope was that it would kill him, or at least knock him out.

The cover broke into little pieces, some even hitting Mercedes.

There was some concrete dust in her eyes, but Mercedes could make out David holding his head, with blood dripping out on his collar.

Mercedes pushed him aside and ran.

She made it passed the fireplace before Karofsky grabbed a handful of her hair.

"You little bitch!"

Mercedes screamed at the top of her lungs as Karofsky tried to drag her to the back of the house.

"LET HER GO!"

Sam sent an uppercut to Karofsky's jaw that completely bewildered him. He instantly let go of Mercedes. She hit the floor.

Sam grabbed Karofsky's shirt collar with both hands and swung him into the nearest corner.

Not even allowing Karofsky a chance to even breathe, Sam right hooked Karofsky in the face, then a left hook, then two more rights.

Becoming even more aggravated, Karofsky punched Sam across the face then threw him across the room.

Karofsky held the side of his head with one hand and the gun in the other.

"You're dead Evans!" Karofsky said, pointing the gun at Sam.

Mercedes screamed shutting her eyes.

"DROP THE GUN!"

Mr. Evans came from the kitchen, with his shotgun pointing straight at Karofsky.

"It's over son. Put it down," he said again.

Karofsky let the gun slip through his bloody fingers and on to the floor.

Police sirens sounded outside. Karofsky fell to his knees in despair.

Sam spit out some blood before helping Mercedes off the ground. He pulled her into a hug. Mercedes hit him.

"You're late," Mercedes said with all seriousness.

Sam smiled. Mercedes started to cry.

He wrapped his arms around her.

The police came through the front and back entrances. They put Karofsky in handcuffs. Mr. Jones followed the police in the cabin.

"Mercedes!" he called.

"I'm here daddy," Mercedes said behind the group of officers, apprehending Karofsky.

Mr. Jones walked up to his daughter but stopped when he saw Sam holding her.

Mercedes' face was buried in his chest, as Sam rested his head on top of hers, slowly rocking her back and forth. His was mouthing something, but his voice was so soft Mr. Jones could not hear it.

"Alright Sam, time to let her go," Detective Corcoran said.

Tears started to roll down Sam's cheeks. He looked up slowly at the detective as if she had said the dumbest thing imaginable. He then shut his eyes and continued to hold Mercedes tighter.

Sam had never been so happy in his life. Detective Corcoran looked at Mr. Jones as if to apologize for the PDA he had to witness between Sam and his daughter. Mr. Jones shrugged his shoulder lightly to concede defeat.

Detective Corcoran smiled. The police medic looked at her, trying to figure out how he was supposed to work on Mercedes.

"Give them a few more minutes, the pry him off of her with a hose if necessary," Shelby said.

After finishing talking to the police, Mr. Evans walked up to Mr. Jones.

"We haven't been formerly introduced," Mr. Evans said, holding out his hand. "I'm Dwight Evans, Sam's father."

"Nice to meet you," Mr. Jones said, reluctantly accepting Dwight's hand.

"My son loves your daughter," Mr. Evans told him.

Mr. Jones put his hands in his pockets and sighed in despair.

"I know," he said, still watching the two.

Mr. Evans scratched the back of his head.

"So…You got plans for Thanksgiving?" Dwight asked, causing Mercedes' father to have a minor stroke.

* * *

Santana helped Mercedes with her makeup in the Kurt's car.

The Homecoming dance had been going on for an hour.

"You look fine," Santana said, holding up her powder mirror.

Mercedes looked at her reflection.

The bandage covering the stiches above her eyebrow had been successfully covered by her bangs.

"You can barely see it," Mercedes said with relief.

"Told you," Santana said, putting her makeup back in her bag.

The girls scooted out of the car.

Kurt was waiting outside.

"You ready?" Kurt asked. "You look great."

Mercedes was wearing the same strapless white dress she wore this morning, but without the sweater.

"Should we wait for Sam?" Mercedes said.

"He should be here soon. We'll meet him inside," Santana said, taking Mercedes' arm.

The three friends walked up the stairs to the front entrance of the school.

The halls were empty, but you could hear the music blasting from the gym.

When they made it to the entrance, all the teachers who were chaperoning the dance were gathered around a small TV set up near the door.

It was turned to channel 2 where they showed the nightly local news.

Mercedes stopped.

"They're probably just talking about the game," Kurt said reassuringly, trying to push Mercedes along.

When the teachers heard Kurt's voice they all turned around. They were uncharacteristically silent when they saw Mercedes standing next to him.

Mercedes' eyes went to the TV.

The reporter was on the location of the cabin.

_**Mercedes Jones was held captive in David's father's lake house at gunpoint for twelve hours. Details are yet unknown as to how Miss Jones managed to stay alive. The police apprehended Karofsky late in the afternoon."**_

One of the chaperons quickly shut off the television, but the damage had already been done.

"Everyone knows don't they," Mercedes said glumly.

Kurt looked at Santana.

"They've been playing it on the radio and the television in a loop," Santana said.

"Great," Mercedes said. "I can't go in there now."

"Yes you can," Kurt said.

"You're still a homecoming princess. You have to go," Kurt said, straightening Mercedes' bangs over her bandage. But the primping seemed futile now. There was no point hiding the scar if everyone already knew it was there.

Mercedes rolled her eyes, taking Kurt's hand.

"Let's get this over with," she said.

"That's my girl," Kurt said.

The two stepped forward then stopped when Santana did not move.

"You coming?" Kurt asked.

"I need to make my own entrance," Santana said, fixing her red dress.

Kurt scoffed, before walking Mercedes in the packed gymnasium.

Everyone was slow dancing as the band played _The Flamingos' I Only Have Eyes for You._

Tina, who was dancing with Mike, spotted Kurt and Mercedes first at the doorway.

She stopped dancing and patted Mike on the shoulder.

Mike stopped dancing too.

This caused three other couples to stop dancing as well and pay attention to who had just come in.

Each couple stopped moving around the gym in what seemed like a slow motion domino effect.

Quinn and Finn sat on the stage in the King and Queen thrones with crowns placed on their heads.

"Well, this is awkward," Kurt whispered.

"Should we dance?" Mercedes asked softly, still holding Kurt's arm.

"What is she doing here?" Finn asked, noticing the silent commotion from his stage.

"Why shouldn't she be here?" Quinn asked. "This is her dance as much as it is ours."

"I know that, but it's, you know, making everyone else uncomfortable," Finn said.

Quinn stood up.

"Where are you going?" Finn asked, taking Quinn's hand.

Quinn turned around to look at him.

"Finn…Do you know why I wanted to be Homecoming Queen more than anything else?" Quinn asked.

"No?" he replied.

Quinn bent over straightening Finn's crown.

"Because a queen can do whatever the hell she wants. And her subjects just have to deal with it," she answered.

Quinn held up her long white dress, slowly stepping down from the stage.

The band stopped playing.

Finn watched her from the stage.

The crowd parted for Quinn as she walked closer and closer to the back of the gym until she was face to face with Mercedes and Kurt.

Everyone watched in silence.

Quinn slowly raised her hands to her head, removing her tiara.

She placed it on Mercedes' head.

Shocked whispers moved through the crowd like a wave

She kissed Mercedes' cheek then curtsied slowly.

"Long live the queen," Quinn said, with her head still lowered.

Mercedes stood silent in disbelief.

The stunned feeling didn't dissipate in anyway when others started to bow their heads in respect.

Mercedes squeezed Kurt's arm.

Quinn raised her head to reveal a very rare smirk on her face.

The band started playing again.

"May I have this dance your highness?"

Sam pushed himself through the crowd.

He was wearing a black tuxedo suit he borrowed from his father.

His lip had a blatant cut in the center.

"Make yourself useful Kurt," Sam said, nudging him aside before taking Mercedes' hand.

Sam twirled Mercedes before dipping her. An embarrassed smile appeared on her face as he lifted her up slowly.

Mercedes wiped a tear from her eye as she smiled from ear to ear. The crystals from her crown reflected a rainbow pattern on Sam's face that wore his signature crooked grin.

Others started dancing around them.

Kurt asked Quinn to dance, while Brittany stole Mike from Tina.

Santana and Puck slow danced in the corner with Puck.

"It looks like everything turned out alright," Puck said.

"Did it?" Santana said. "I'm didn't get my crown."

"You got me," Puck said assertively.

"You're not much of a consolation prize," Santana said.

Puck stopped dancing.

"But…we had sex," Puck said.

Santana narrowed her eyes at Puck.

"Noah…that was kind of a one-time thing. I felt vulnerable and I thought you understood something," Santana said.

"You'll sleep with me, but you won't go steady with me?" Puck said.

"Like you've dated every girl you've ever made it with," Santana said accusingly.

"No, but I thought-"

Santana put her index finger over Puck's lips to hush him.

"Look Noah. You're sweet, but our arrangement was supposed to only last till Homecoming. You got sex, and I didn't even win. You should be happy," Santana said.

"What if I want more?" Puck asked, looking into Santana's eyes.

"No guy wants more than that," Santana said.

"I do…" Puck replied.

Santana pouted.

"You really are cute Puckerman. But I'm not offering anything more…not now anyway," Santana said, putting her arms back around Puck's neck as she swayed to the music.

Puck removed Santana's arms slowly and walked away.

Santana felt bad for Puck as she watched him go over to the punch table, but she shook away the sympathetic feelings, convincing herself it was all for the best.

Finn and Rachel slow-danced near the stage. Both were miserable for different reasons.

"Rachel," Finn said, with his eyes on Quinn who was dancing with Mike.

"Yes," said Rachel, who was eyeing the crown on Mercedes' head.

Finn: Why do you want to be Homecoming Queen?

Rachel: What do you mean?

Finn: There must be a reason.

Rachel looked over at Sam who was whispering something in Mercedes' ear.

"I…I just wanted to be beautiful," Rachel said.

"I think you're beautiful Rachel," said Finn with a half-smile.

Rachel smiled back politely, leaning her head onto Finn's chest whilst watching Sam.

For her, the problem wasn't **if** she felt beautiful, but **who** thought she was beautiful. And at this point, the person she wanted to notice her could not be bothered.

As Finn slow danced with Rachel, a sudden realization came over him.

Quinn laughed as Mike waltzed around the floor with her.

Kurt, Tina, and Santana were laughing at Sam who was trying to retrieve Mercedes from Puck, who looked like he was trying to impregnate her on the dance floor.

Sam put Puck in a playful headlock as Mercedes was swept up by Kurt for another dance.

Finn had his crown and his girl, but it finally occurred to him that he was alone. Times were changing and he was standing still.

"Quinn," Mercedes said, following the head cheerleader to the punch bowl.

"I thought about your offer, and I have a proposition for you."

Quinn sipped her punch, giving Mercedes a skeptical eye.

"You have a proposition for me," Quinn repeated.

Mercedes nodded.

"I want you to come to Dalton with us tomorrow, but I can't join the cheerios," Mercedes said.

"That's not part of the plan," Quinn said, wondering where Mercedes was going with this.

"I know, but I have a better one. Santana would make a perfect cheerleader."

Quinn raised her eyebrows.

"Santana? She would never take orders from me," Quinn said, shaking her head.

"She would if you made her, I don't know, vice-captain," Mercedes told Quinn.

Quinn spit out some of her punch.

"Vice-captain?!"

"Before you shoot my idea down, just want you to remember that Santana would make a great cheerleader," Mercedes said.

"Why? Cause she's skinny and mean?" Quinn said.

Mercedes thought about it then shrugged her shoulders.

"Pretty much," she replied, making Quinn snort.

"I'll think about it," Quinn said.

"Good! When you ask Santana, don't tell her I asked you," Mercedes said, before scooting off.

"Wait! I have to ask her?" Quinn said, but Mercedes was already gone.

"I've created a monster; miniature queen bee," Quinn said to herself, sipping her punch.

One of the band members helped Santana on stage.

Boys whistled as she shimmied in her red dress to the microphone.

She directed the band to start, before pressing her red lips to the mike.

The pianist started playing the sultry intro.

_**Atttt Last  
My love has come along  
My lonely days are over…  
And life is like a song**_

_**At last…  
The skies above are blue.  
My heart was wrapped up in clover  
the night I looked at you.**_

Tina tapped Puck on the shoulder.

"May I have this dance?"

Puck took Tina's hand and began dancing with her. Tina blushed, trying not to look directly into Puck's eyes.

"Are you alright?" Tina asked him, when she noticed him watching Santana.

"I'm good," he said shaking his head, turning his attention back to Tina, who was wearing a black cocktail dress with her hair tied up. Puck took a second look at Mercedes' friend for the time. She had always looked cute to him, but tonight…she was uncharacteristically sexy.

"This is the best night of my life," Tina said.

"How come?" Puck asked.

Tina smiled, looking back down at the floor.

"Because I'm dancing with the most badass guy at McKinley High," Tina said, blushing.

"Did the words bad-ass actually come out of your mouth? I'm impressed Chang," Puck said.

Tina bit her bottom lip, putting her arms around Puck's neck.

A confident smirk that had gone on vacation since Puck had been chasing Santana reappeared on Puck's face as Tina let out a flirty laugh.

_**I found a dream,  
A dream that I could speak too…  
A dream that I can call my own**_

**I've found a thrill**  
**to press my cheek to**  
**A thrill that I have never known!**

"You do know I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again," Sam said to Mercedes.

Mercedes smiled.

**Mercedes**: I figured as much... I'm sorry you didn't win Homecoming King

**Sam**: I don't care. Finn can have it

Mercedes shook her head, giving a half smirk.

**Mercedes**: Ever since I've met you, you've been going on and on about being Homecoming King and everyone loving you.

**Sam**: Was I really that conceited?

**Mercedes**: What do you mean "was"?

**Sam**: {sarcastically} Ha-ha

**Mercedes**: It just seemed like it was really important to you.

**Sam**: For a long time I was that sad, loser kid who got held back because he was working on a farm. Trying to be cool became this defense system for me. And when my family came to Lima, and I finally hit my growth spurt, I got a fresh start, and I finally was able to fit in somewhere… But after meeting you, I don't feel I have to try anymore.

**Mercedes**: {jokingly} Why, because I take whatever I can get?

**Sam**: No, because now…You're the only thing that matters.

Mercedes' smile disappeared from her face.

"You really shouldn't say such things Sam," Mercedes said quietly.

Sam's mouth curved in a crooked smile, as he touched side of Mercedes' face with his thumb.

"Why," Sam said.

Mercedes moved his hand.

"Because… this may not be forever," Mercedes spoke honestly. "You feel this way now, but you're eighteen. You'll change; I'll change, or-or you'll get tired of the drama, or I'll get too bothersome!"

"What are you talking about?" Sam said, confused.

"I'm saying I don't want you putting all your chips on me. I can't be the only thing that matters to you. If I go-"

"I'll follow," Sam said.

"You say that now-"

Sam leaned down, hushing Mercedes with a soft kiss. Some seniors nearby whistled, causing Mercedes' face to become flushed.

"Mercedes Jones, one day you're gonna have to admit to yourself that you're in love with me just as much as I am with you. Once you realize that, you'll accept that I'm not going anywhere" he said smugly.

Mercedes' mouth still remained open.

"Sam Evans, you-!"

Sam kissed Mercedes again. But this time, he was less forgiving. Sam's hands held Mercedes' neck in place as he sucked every complaint out of her mouth.

_**Well..  
You smile  
you smile  
oh and then the spell was cast  
and here we are in heaven  
for you are mine at last **__**  
**_

When they're lips finally parted, Mercedes felt grateful that Sam had a good grip on her or she would have fainted. The kiss sent sparks all the way to her toes.

The class applauded Santana as the band faded out.

"I…" Mercedes started.

"Do you really wanna risk it?" Sam asked teasingly.

Mercedes innocently shook her head, worried of what Sam would do to her next.

Sam smiled deviously.

Out of the corner of Mercedes eye, she saw Artie enter the gym.

A big smile appeared on her face.

Sam turned his head to see who she was looking at.

Mercedes let go of Sam, going over to her friend. Sam let her go.

"Artie?"

Artie was wearing a dark green tux with matching bow tie.

It was the first time Mercedes saw him without his glasses.

He looked much older than sixteen.

"Hey," Artie said.

"I thought dances weren't your scene," Mercedes said.

Artie shrugged his shoulder.

"I'd thought I check it out," Artie said casually.

Artie's eyes moved up to the crown perched on Mercedes' head.

"You won?" Artie said.

"Oh this? No, not really," Mercedes said, taking off the tiara.

"No. Keep it on…You were born to wear it," Artie said.

Mercedes blushed, placing the crown back on her head. When her hand brushed against her bangs, Artie noticed the bandage.

"What happened to your forehead?" he asked.

Mercedes snorted.

"You don't watch the news do you," she said.

"Of course not, television is for morons," Artie said pretentiously.

Mercedes chuckled.

"I kind of love you Artie," Mercedes said.

Artie cleared his throat nervously.

A fast song came on.

"You wanna dance?" Mercedes said, starting to shimmy in place.

Artie laughed.

"Umm, no I'm alright," he replied, though he was enjoying Mercedes shaking her waist to the music.

"Maybe next week," Artie said.

"I wouldn't have to wait till next week if you would come with us to Dalton," Mercedes told him.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'll stay… And when you come back, I'll have a surprise to show you," Artie said.

"What kind of surprise?" Mercedes asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's just say, we'll finally be able to see each other at equal eye level," Artie hinted. "…not that I mind the view I have now," he added, looking Mercedes up and down.

"Glad you could make it, Artie," Sam said, appearing behind Mercedes.

"Really?" Artie said.

"No," Sam replied.

Mercedes hit Sam.

The band started to play the Beatles' _Twist and Shout_, causing frenzy in the gymnasium.

"Last dance everyone!" the band called.

A crowd had gathered around Mike and Brittany who were showing off their best moves at the center of the floor.

Santana appeared, taking Mercedes' hand.

"Let's show those whitebread kids how it's done," Santana said.

The girls danced back to back, doing their best twist in their heels eventually stealing Mike and Brittany's thunder.

Tina joined them.

Puck and Sam watched the girls in amazement.

At one point all three kicked off their heels, causing the crowd to cheer. They laughed and kept dancing as the crowd circled around them. Sam and Puck watched on the edge.

"Man, MJ looks really happy!" Puck said Sam over the music.

"Yeah! ...You think she'll get mad when she finds out I told her dad we were going to elope?" Sam asked.

Puck laughed then sighed, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Oh Sam… you're dead where you stand," he said lightly as Sam's smile disappeared from his face.

"Yeah… I won't tell her," Sam said.

"Good idea," agreed Puck.

**To be continued…**

**Songs used: Etta James' At Last**


	12. Chapter 12

**New Directions: Lima, Ohio 1965 part 12 Dalton Academy Special part I**

[I apologize profusely about the length of this chapter lol. Please enjoy and review]

The bus driver had been driving for two hours when the group started to wake up.

They all met at four in the morning in the school parking lot and left sometime after five.  
Santana was the last to arrive since she brought two suitcases.  
Principal Figgins showed up to wish them all well and to encourage them to be true to McKinley, while Ms. Sylvester only came to threaten them with suspension if any monkey business went on.  
"You're representing McKinley! So don't even think about it!"  
"She needs to get some - immediately," Santana told Mercedes, before boarding the bus.

As the sun started to rise, so did the others sleeping in the bus seats.  
Tina and Mercedes whose heads were resting on each other's, were the only ones still asleep.  
"Are we almost there yet?" Kurt asked, touching his hair.  
"We'll be there in another hour," Mr. Schuester said. "Leave the girls alone Noah!"  
Puck was dangling a feather over Tina's nose. Still asleep, Tina batted the feather away like a cat, then lay motionless again.  
The others watched and giggled as Puck did it again, tickling Tina's nose with the feather.  
This time, a slumbering Tina swung her hand, hitting Puck directly in the balls.  
A small squeak came out of Puck's mouth before he collapsed on the ground in agony.  
Everyone laughed raucously. Even Mr. Schuester had to let out a dignified chuckle.  
The noise eventually caused Tina and Mercedes to open their eyes.  
"What happened to Noah?" Mercedes asked sleepily, as Puck groaned on the bus floor.  
"What he deserves," Quinn said, as everyone still laughed.

Once everyone was fully awake, they helped each other get dressed.  
They would not be performing that day, but they all agreed they wanted to make a good first impression.  
"Almost there!" The bus driver called.  
"So excited. Who wouldn't want to see a bunch of young men in uniforms," Tina said as Mercedes fixed her hair.  
"Young men with trust funds more like," Santana added, as she curled her eyelashes.  
As the other girls helped the boys with their ties, Sam took Mercedes to the edge of the bus so they could speak in private.  
"Did you think about it?" Sam asked.  
Mercedes nodded.  
"I'm not that comfortable with the idea myself…but it's for the best. I mean you know your family better than I do." Mercedes replied.  
Last night the two agreed to keep their relationship a secret while at Dalton.  
"Okay," said Sam, taking his girlfriend's hand. "Give me a kiss since this may be our last one for a while."  
Mercedes gave Sam a quick kiss on the cheek.  
Sam frowned. "I already want to go home," he said, as Mercedes chuckled.  
"We're here!"  
The New Directions all went to the right side of the bus.  
"Look at it! It's like a castle," Tina said.  
The bus crawled up the green landscape.

Dalton was perched on top of the hill. Each building was made of dark gray stone, each sporting French windows.  
"Look, horses!" Kurt pointed out.  
They passed and Old English looking stable where some students were attending to thoroughbreds.  
The school overlooked a lake where some students were doing their morning row.  
"Isn't it amazing, Sam," Mercedes said.  
"Yeah…Looks just like it did before," Sam replied unenthusiastically.  
Mercedes put her hand on his shoulder.  
"Everything will be fine," Mercedes said.  
The bus driver pulled up to the welcoming hall where a tall middle-aged woman with brown hair was standing at the front entrance.  
The bus driver helped the girls off the bus first. They all looked up at the structure of the building.  
"This school is beautiful," Tina said.  
The lady, whose face looked like she was smelling something awful, nodded her head curtly to Tina's compliment.  
"Welcome to the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy. I am the secretary to the Headmaster, and I invite to enjoy your stay here," she said as nicely as possible.  
"Whoa, check this out," Puck said, pointing to the gold crest on the front door.  
He attempted to read the Latin words.  
"Ruptus Adversarius. What does that mean?" he asked.  
"Break the enemy," the lady replied.  
"Oookay," Santana said, thinking the same thing everyone else was.  
"We take competition very seriously at Dalton," the secretary said.  
"Well, so do we. I'm Mr. Schuester. Thank you for inviting us," Mr. Schuester said, holding out his hand. The secretary shook it stiffly.  
"Oh my God, she moves like Herman Munster," Kurt whispered to Mercedes, who tried not to laugh.  
"If you would follow me," the secretary said, opening the door for the group.  
Everyone entered the hall.  
It was common room with leather sofas lining the walls and a fireplace ten feet tall in the corner of the room. In the middle were two winding staircases that met at the bottom.  
It was very quiet, and very empty.  
"Umm," Santana began. "Where is everybody."

Suddenly the group heard someone clear their throat. They could not tell from where because the sound echoed throughout the room.

"SO DO LA FAH MI DO RE" someone sang.

"What was that?" Finn said.

"It came from up there I think," Kurt said, pointing to the staircase.

"SO DO LA TI DO RE DO" another voice echoed.

Two well-dressed boys' heads popped out from behind the banister.

"DO RE MI FAH SO LA TI DO!" they sang in falsetto unison before ducking back down behind the banister.

The girls jumped in shock when another boy popped up from behind the sofa.

"MIII SOOOO DO," he sang in his lowest base, causing the girls to giggle.

A boy with jet black hair and hazel eyes walked down the stairs.

"DO RE MI FA SO LA TI DO!" he wailed. "DO. DO!"

All Dalton boys appeared from their hiding places in the room, singing in twelve-part harmony.

**_Do a deer, a female deer!  
Re, a drop of golden sun!  
Mi, a name I call myself!  
Fah, a long long way to run!_**

The Dalton glee club encircled the McKinley students.

**_So, a needle pulling thread!  
La! A note to follow SO!  
Tiiii, I drink with jam and bread!  
And that will bring us back toooo…_**

The boys suddenly went silent. The smallest boy took two steps towards them belting out the highest pitched voice they had ever heard

**_Doooooh!_**

The girls gasped, applauding them.  
"Do… Ti… La… So…" the boys crooned, before taking a bow.

New Directions applauded them. Santana made a whistle.  
"That was amazing," Finn said.

One of the boys with dark brown hair stepped forward.

"Welcome, my name is Nicholas, fourth year, and we are the Dalton Academy Warblers," he said.  
"Holy shit," Kurt whispered to Mercedes, who nodded in agreement.

"SAMMY! IS THAT YOU?"

One of the boys jumped on Sam.

"Hey," Sam said, hugging him back.

The boy was very slim and tall with broad shoulders and an elegant face.

The boy placed his hands on Sam's shoulder, looking into his cousin's eyes.

"It's been so long. Not a redhead anymore I see," said the boy.

"Yeah, thank god I grew out of that right," Sam said, touching his hair.  
"I'm glad you could make it. Grandfather will be pleased. Gentlemen! This is my cousin Samuel! Some of you might remember him as the first year who defaced the statue by the east court," Sam's cousin said.

Everyone chuckled as Sam playfully pushed his cousin.

"A legend. Nice to meet you sir," one Dalton boy said, shaking his hand.

"I had forgotten about that," Sam said. "You were always getting me into trouble Sebastian."

"You were always trying to impress your big cousin," Sebastian replied, "But now it seems you've outgrown me a little. All that farm work built you up."

"Ha-ha," said Sam sarcastically.

Sebastian's eyes fell on the rest of the New Directions.

"Excuse my younger cousin. He has horrible backwoods manners. I'm Sebastian Smythe," he said.  
"Nice to meet you Sebastian," the group replied in unison.  
"Thank you for inviting us. I'm Rachel Berry, lead soloist, and this is my boyfriend, Finn Hudson, captain of the New Directions," Rachel said, pushing the others aside so she and Finn could get through.  
"Very nice to meet you Miss Berry, Mr. Hudson. You look lovely," Sebastian said.  
"Why thank you," Rachel said.  
Quinn rolled her eyes as Santana made a gagging noise in the back.  
"My my," Sebastian began, "Do all the ladies in Lima look like this Sammy? No wonder you didn't come back."  
Sebastian went over and kissing Quinn's hand.  
"Pleasure to meet you," Quinn said, taking her hand away slowly.  
"Pleasure's all mine," Sebastian said seductively.  
Sam cleared his throat.  
"Sebastian, this is Quinn, Kurt, Santana, Mercedes, Mike, Tina, Noah, Finn, and Rachel."  
The New Directions members shook the hands of the Warblers one by one, introducing themselves.  
"We have to get back to class now. We'll see you again at lunch," Sebastian said. "Blaine will show you where you'll be staying for the weekend."  
The Warbles departed, going their separate ways.  
"Can you believe it? I've never heard any group sing like that," Tina said.  
"No kidding," said Mercedes.  
"Ladies, gentleman. I'm third year, Blaine Anderson. I'll be showing you your rooms and the rest of the campus if we have time," Blaine said.  
"Don't you have classes too?" asked Kurt.  
"I asked my professor for the morning off. I couldn't miss an opportunity to meet the New Directions. I'm your biggest fan," Blaine said, making Kurt blush.  
Puck put his arm around Blaine.  
"Well lead the way groupie," Puck said.  
The group followed Blaine up the stairs.  
"I like him," Mercedes whispered to Kurt.  
"Me too," Kurt said excitedly.

When they made it upstairs, there was a whole other common room on the second floor, with an equally big fireplace, with long drapes covering giant windows.  
"Girls, your rooms are another floor up, if you'll follow me," Blaine said.  
"Hey, Kurt, he said girls," Noah said.  
Kurt didn't realize he was following the ladies. He had his eye on Blaine the whole time.  
"Oh, right of course," Kurt said, catching Blaine's eye before going over to the boys who were sitting on the couch.  
Noah playfully punched Kurt in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.  
"Look at this guy! Trying to sneak into the girls' bedroom. Hummel you dog you," Puck said with his tongue sticking out.  
"Yeah... You caught me," Kurt said coolly, as the other guys patted him on the back.

When the girls entered their rooms they were in awe at the accommodations.  
They had a lounge similar to the one on the second floor. Blaine took them to their bedrooms which were to the right and to the left of the sitting area.  
Blaine opened the door for them.  
"Usually men sleep here, but we redecorated to accommodate you ladies," Blaine said.  
There were three full canopy beds with satin blue sheets, comforters and pillows.  
They had a balcony overlooking the lake.

"How do you like it?" Blaine asked.

"It's perfect," said Mercedes, looking outside.

"Problem," Rachel announced. "There's five of us and only three beds."

"There's another bedroom with three other beds to the left of the sitting room," Blaine told her.  
"Good, who's coming with me?" Rachel said.

The four other girls looked at each other, none of them willing to sleep with Rachel in the other bedroom.  
"Umm, Santana and I can share a bed," Mercedes said.  
Quinn and Tina nodded happily in agreement.  
"Fine then," Rachel said indignantly.  
When Rachel left the room all the girls flopped on the beds and squealed with excitement.  
"I'm transferring schools," Tina said, bouncing in her bed.  
"You're not the only one," Santana said.  
"It's an all-boys school," Mercedes reminded them, taking off her coat.  
"Then I'll learn to wear pants and spit," Tina said, tossing a pillow at Mercedes's head.  
"Hey! This hairstyle has to last thank you very much," Mercedes, throwing the pillow at Tina. Tina ducked, letting the pillow smack Santana in the face as she was doing her makeup in the mirror.  
Everyone got silent as Santana turned around slowly.  
"Who did that?" she asked sinisterly.  
"I did," Quinn said, tossing another pillow at Santana. "What are you gonna do about it?" she taunted deviously.  
"You're dead Fabray," Santana said, jumping over the bed.

"RUN QUINN!" Mercedes yelled as Santana chased after her.  
Mercedes and Tina followed, laughing at the top of their lungs.  
Quinn ducked under the couch when Santana tossed a throw pillow, barely missing her head.  
"Slow poke!" Quinn teased, and Tina and Mercedes cheered.  
Quinn ran to the stairs, but missed a step.  
"QUINN!" Mercedes exclaimed.  
Quinn landed in someone's arms climbing up the stairs.  
"Oh! I'm sorry," Quinn said.  
Sebastian carried Quinn back up the stairs as the girls gathered around her.  
"It seems you've fallen for me Miss Fabray," he said smugly.  
"Literally," Quinn said, as Sebastian set her down.  
"Good catch," Tina said.  
"I came back to remind Blaine to show you our music hall," Sebastian said.  
"That'd be lovely, thank you," Mercedes said.  
"Oh, Sebastian!"  
Rachel had just come out of her room.  
"Would you be so kind as to escort me to the second floor?" she asked.  
All the other girls rolled their eyes as Rachel took the arm of Sebastian.  
"And Miss Fabray do be more careful on the stairs. Next time I catch you I may not let you go," he said, before walking Rachel out.  
"Sooooo dreamy," Tina said.  
"He's all talk," Quinn said.  
"Never trust a guy that good-looking," Santana said. "It's the reason I never went with Kurt."  
"That and he wouldn't have you," Mercedes said, causing Quinn and Tina to chuckle.  
"I'm not the one who was crying over him sophomore year was I," Santana said, making Mercedes cut her eyes at her.  
"Alright, retract the claws," Quinn said. "I want to know just how many cute boys are on this campus."  
"We finally agree on something," Santana said, as all the girls rushed back to the bedroom to get their coats.  
…

* * *

When everyone was ready, Blaine took the entire group on a tour of the school that covered several acres.  
Everyone rendezvoused at the dining hall at noon, except for Sam and Sebastian.  
"You guys perform tomorrow afternoon and in the evening we will exchange constructive feedback," Trent, a third year warbler told them.  
"Not that you'll have any," Santana said, winking at him, causing the boy's face to turn red.  
"We'll take all the tips we can get, and we'll help you if we can" Mercedes said.  
Puck motioned for Blaine to lean into him.  
"Hey," Puck whispered, "Man to man, what does a guy do for fun around here?"  
"Well… We have a winter socials and sometimes we have trips to the cape-"  
"No no no no, what I mean is…There aren't any ladies around so, how do you entertain yourselves? There must be some hang out spot where you fellas cut loose," said Puck.  
"Oh!" Blaine said nervously. "Well… There isn't that much time for that."  
"Be honest with me Blaine…You guys have all been neutered or something right," Puck said, causing Quinn sitting next to him to cough out her salad.

"Noah, what is wrong with you?" Kurt asked.  
Blaine chuckled nervously.

"No sir, I assure you, we are not," he replied politely.  
"You got a girlfriend?" Puck asked.  
Blaine shook his head bashfully.  
"A good-looking guy like yourself? What's wrong with you?" Puck said.  
"Who says there's anything wrong with him?" Kurt said, coming to Blaine's defense. "Maybe he just hasn't found the right one."  
Blaine gave Kurt a shy smile before turning back to Puck.  
"The girls I know aren't really interested in you unless you've got a trust fund," Blaine said.  
"I thought everyone at this school was rich," Kurt said.  
"Some of us have scholarships. I uh… do some extracurricular activities that help pay for my tuition," Blaine told him.  
"That's really cool," Kurt said, clearly impressed by Mr. Anderson.  
While the others were still chatting, Mercedes checked her watch.  
They should have been at the practice room already, going over their songs.  
After witnessing the Warblers perform acapella, the New Directions wanted to commit to at least one number without music, and they would need a lot of practice to pull it off.  
Mercedes and Quinn got up to return their empty plates to the kitchen.  
"What do you think of a girl doo wop arrangement as an opening number? Tina can do lead," Mercedes said.  
"Do you think Mr. Schuester will agree to it?" Quinn asked, as she put their trays on the counter next to trash bins.  
"The real question is will Rachel," Mercedes said.  
"I hope not. I've been looking for another reason to smack her," said Quinn deviously.

The girls laughed.

"Shoot, I think I threw away my fork on accident," Mercedes said, looking in the waste bin.

"I'm pretty sure they can replace it Mercedes," Quinn said jokingly.

"Excuse me ma'am!"

Mercedes turned around. There was a student standing in front of her.

"I'm sorry,?" Mercedes said, as she and Quinn moved away from the trash can.

"My steak was well done when I asked for medium well-"  
It took some thought for Mercedes to figure what the boy was talking about.

"Oh, umm. I don't work-" she began.

"It's not that hard of a concept to figure out," the boy continued. "When I request something I expect it to be done."  
"I understand, but you're a little confused. I don't-"  
"Don't back talk me!"  
"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?! She's not a cook you moron!" Quinn yelled.  
"Is there a problem?"  
Blaine and Kurt had just gotten up from the table.  
"Yes!" Quinn said, clearly offended.  
"No, there isn't," Mercedes said, as other students started to look over to where the trash bins were.  
"I don't know what kind of school this is where a boy can talk to lady like this!" Quinn said.  
"I want your name," Blaine said to the second year student.  
"That isn't necessary," Mercedes said rolling her eyes. "It was an honest mistake…please."  
The secretary to the Headmaster had gotten up from her table to inquire what was going on.  
"Is there a problem?" she asked.  
"This second year seems to have forgotten his manners," Blaine said, "But the situation is under control."  
"…I- I'm sorry," the boy said to Quinn.  
"Not to me! To her!" Quinn said.  
Unable to look at Mercedes, the boy's eyes moved down to his shoes in embarrassment.  
"I'm sorry miss. I behaved uncouthly. I have no excuse," he said.  
"Go back to your seat Mr. Hughes," the secretary said.  
"Are you okay?" Kurt asked Mercedes.  
"Yes," Mercedes said again.  
"That student should get-" Quinn began.  
"ENOUGH"

Kurt, Quinn, and Blaine looked at Mercedes, who rarely raised her voice.  
"We're already late for rehearsal. Let's go."

* * *

Sebastian and Sam walked up the stairs to their grandfather's office.  
"He'll be excited to see you," Sebastian said, straightening his uniform.  
To date, Sebastian's grandfather was the only person who intimidated him.  
Sebastian knocked on the office door.  
"Come in!" said a prominent voice.

Sean Smythe sat at his mahogany desk, writing something down.  
He was a slim but muscular old man with a distinct jawline. His hair was mostly silver except for the small dark brown strands poking through the back of his head.  
"Samuel!" he said brightly, standing up.  
"Hi grandpa," Sam said politely, going over to shake his grandfather's hand.  
"You're so big! Last time I saw you, you weren't even pass my shoulder. Now look at you, towering over me," he said, in exaggeration since both he and Sam stood at six feet.  
"But what have you done to your hair?" he asked, as Sam's face went red.  
Sebastian watched in the background as his grandfather marveled at his long-lost grandson.  
"The prodigal son has returned," Sebastian said.

"And we must make sure he stays for good this time," said Sean. "I tried to call your mother last week, but you still don't have a landline. Ridiculous."

"Yeah well we do the best we can," Sam said, though knowing good and well his family intentionally never installed a line so they would never have to hear from his grandfather again.  
"How's that Dwight Evans doing… You're mother's husband," Sean asked apathetically.  
"Oh, you mean my father - the man who gave me life? He's okay," Sam replied.  
"Still cheeky I see," Sean said, tousling Sam's hair.  
"But now that I get a good look at you, something indeed has changed…perhaps a young lady is responsible."  
"Actually, Grandfather, Sam has a practice to get to," Sebastian began.  
"Right Right of course! On your way then, but I will see you tonight at the dinner," Sean said, sitting back down at his desk.

Sam and Sebastian left.  
"The young lady that grandfather mentioned…It wouldn't by any chance be Miss Fabray, would it?" Sebastian asked as the two walked back down the stairs.  
"Nope, we're friends," Sam replied.  
"Good, she isn't seeing anyone else is she?" Sebastian inquired.  
"Like that'd stop you anyhow," Sam told him.  
"You do know me well cousin," Sebastian replied confidently.  
"Sometimes I don't even think you like girls. You just like to collect nice things like baseball cards," Sam said.  
Sebastian put his arm around Sam.  
"Only you would call ghastly baseball cards nice Sammy."

* * *

Quinn quietly brushed her hair in front of the mirror, as Mercedes zipped up her dress.  
Ever since after the dining hall incident, there was an uncomfortable silence between the two ladies that was soon to end.  
"Do you have something to get off your chest?" Mercedes asked.  
Quinn didn't reply.  
"Fine," Mercedes said.  
Quinn put her brush down.  
"Why did you let that guy talk to you like that?"  
Mercedes shook her head.  
"Well!?" Quinn said.  
"... I was afraid. " said Mercedes. "Sometimes it's easy for whites to get hostile. If I pissed him off, he could walk away or he could slap me in the face. I didn't know."

Quinn rolled her eyes.  
"You're being over-dramatic-"  
"Don't ever call me over-dramatic," Mercedes said.  
"You're a tough girl, Quinn, I get it. But you will never understand what it's like for an entire race of people to feel entitled over you. If you get upset, someone will think you've been hurt or mistreated... If I get upset, people will think I'm out of line, or 'over-dramatic'. I live in a world where my feelings don't matter, a world where simply asking for my God given rights as a human being is asking too much. Do you really think all those black activists they linch and put in jail actually broke a law?"  
Quinn looked at Mercedes. At that moment she had forgotten how to think.  
Mercedes could see that Quinn was overwhelmed.  
She exhaled, zipping up the rest of her dress.  
"I don't mean to upset you Quinn. But this is my life; these are the things I have to think about, the stuff I have to remind myself every time a jerk believes he can talk to me anyway he wants. I know you don't understand it, but please respect it."

* * *

The New Directions arrived at the Smythe manor dressed for the special dinner.  
Sam and Sebastian met the group in the foyer.  
"Sam, is that you?" Santana said.

Sam's beatle hairstyle was gone, his hair now at an aristocratic military length.  
He wore a black tux with a white shirt and black tie.  
Not used to the haircut, he absentmindedly, touched the back of his head.  
Mercedes gave him furtive smile, as if to say she approved of the new look.  
A butler entered the foyer.  
"Dinner is served," he announced.

"Miss Fabray," said Sebastian, offering Quinn his arm.  
Puck went in with Tina, Rachel with Finn and Mike with Santana.  
Kurt looked at Mercedes.  
"I guess you're my date tonight," Kurt said, grasping Mercedes' hand.  
Kurt winked at Sam as he and Mercedes walked in together.  
Sam internally flipped Kurt the bird.  
When Mercedes entered the dining hall she was taken aback by the extravagance of the room. The crystal chandelier hung three stories above the dining table which could seat an entire football team.  
There were ten other people sipping champagne near the piano; some of them Mercedes assumed was Sam's family. Most of them had either light brown or reddish hair.  
Sebastian and Sam went over to them.  
The oldest man, who Mercedes' assumed was Sam's grandfather, whispered something in Sebastian's ear.  
Sebastian nodded and went over to Kurt and Mercedes.  
"This is a lovely place your grandfather has," Mercedes told him.

"Thank you, I'm sure he'll be pleased to hear it" Sebastian said, turning his attention to Kurt.

"My grandfather request that you sit to the right of him at the table," Sebastian told him with a forced smile.

Mercedes and Kurt looked at each other.

"Why?" Kurt said, honestly confused.  
"Well it's not every day he gets the opportunity to chat with the congressman's son," Sebastian said.  
Kurt returned his eyes to Mercedes who let go of his arm.

"Go ahead, I'll find a seat somewhere," she said, as Sebastian escorted Kurt to the front of table as the other guests were starting to take their seats.

Sam walked coolly over to Mercedes.  
"It seems Kurt has taken my seat, so you'll have to be my dinner date tonight," he said.  
"Did you tell your grandfather that Kurt was the congressman's son?" Mercedes said, though already knowing the answer by the devious look on Sam's face.  
"My lady," Sam said, pulling out the chair near the middle of the table for Mercedes.  
"Thank you," said Mercedes, shaking her head at her slick boyfriend.  
Quinn was sitting next to Sebastian and Kurt near the edge of the table where the rest of the family was sitting.  
Mr. Schuester and the New Directions sat on the other half of the giant table.  
Sam, Mercedes, Santana, and Mike sat on the right side, while Tina, Puck, Rachel, Finn and Mr. Schuester sat on the left.

A slender middle aged man with brown hair and glasses stood up. He tapped the rim of his glass with his fork.  
"Evening everyone. I'd like to formally welcome my nephew Sam and the New Directions to our humble home," he said.  
Everyone politely applauded.  
"They call this humble?" Mike whispered to Santana who snorted.  
"Thanks Unk," Sam said, causing the aristocratic side of the table to chuckle.  
"Did you say something funny?" Mercedes muttered to Sam.  
"Everything's funny to the rich people except taxes… You'll get used to it," Sam said, leaning back uncomfortably in his chair.  
No fewer than twenty servants entered the dining hall with the first course.  
Some of the show choir members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, as they were not used to being served, most of them whispering 'thank yous' as their server set their soup in front of them.  
The group members eyed each other awkwardly to see which spoon their neighbors were using. Most of them went for the biggest one.  
"Sam, it's such a shame your mother couldn't come join us," Sam's uncle and Sebastian's father, said.  
"Yeah well, I do have to two more siblings at home," Sam said, sipping his soup.  
"I'm sure your father could have watched them, unless he's finally started working again," the uncle said.  
"…Yeah he has," Sam said through gritted teeth and a smile.  
"Oh… well I'm glad to hear it," Sam's uncle replied. "You must tell your mother I said hello."  
Sam nodded, bringing his concentration back to his plate.  
Mercedes put her hand on Sam's underneath the table.  
Sam looked at her and half-smiled.  
"So, Quinn how are you enjoying Dalton so far?" Sebastian asked.  
"It's fine," Quinn said politely.  
"The headmaster informed me of the verbal whipping you gave one of the second years," Sean Smythe interjected.  
Quinn's eyes quickly flashed towards Mercedes before she brought her attention back to Sam's grandfather.  
"His behavior was reproachable" Quinn said, looking down at her soup.  
"Our women do tend to sympathize with the negro," Sean said.  
Most of the guests politely chuckled.  
"I assure you Mr. Smythe, I'm not a sympathetic creature. I just don't like ignorance." Quinn said.  
"Sam, what do you think of all this?" Sean asked.  
Sam had half a dinner roll lodged in his jaw.  
"Wha? Oh yeah yeah," Sam replied, whose right hand was still intertwined in Mercedes' under the table.  
"Kurt, your father seems like a conservative head. What does he think about the race issue?" Mr. Smythe asked.  
"…I think he understands that separate can never be equal," Kurt replied politely.  
"True," Sean said. "But the blacks must understand that the law will never give them the equality they seek. This country is built on a class system chain, and functions best that way."  
"Well, that's easy to say when you're at the top of the chain," said Mr. Schuester.  
The adults chuckled.  
"My point, Mr. Schuester, is absolute equality is absolute fantasy." said Sean. "Racism isn't just in the statutes or in the schools, it's in the very fabric of humanity. It's nurtured from birth. Now tell me what law can change the human mind...What can revolutionize the minds all people, black and white?"

"Music."

Everyone turned their attention to Mercedes who had been silently sitting in her seat.  
The guests at the table kept their eyes on her, making her realize they expected her to elaborate.  
Mercedes nervously cleared her throat.  
"M-music," Mercedes stated more clearly. "I mean… isn't that why where here in the first place? Why you invited us…"  
The guest turned their heads back to Sam's grandfather who smirked.  
With his hands on the table, he turned his ring on his left hand.  
"Yes, you're quite right my dear," he said softly.  
Sam smiled down at his plate, a small feeling of pride swelled in his stomach.  
"Well Samuel it looks like the integration has benefited your school. I've always believed whites and negros could learn from each other," Sam's grandfather said smugly.

"You mean like negros could learn to play golf and whites could learn how to shine shoes?" said Santana.  
Mr. Schuester dropped his spoon onto the floor. One of the servants picked it up for him.  
"Of course that's not what I meant," Sean replied with a smile. "Believe it or not I am a friend to the negro. Why my stable boy is colored-"

"REALLY?" said Santana is her most falsely impressed tone. "My milkman is white! Maybe you know him."  
Mercedes spit out the water she was drinking. "I'm fine," she whispered as Mike and Sam tried to pat her on the back  
"You're a feisty quadroon aren't you," Sam's grandfather said to Santana, causing his family to laugh.  
"What did he just call me?" Santana said angrily.  
"Santana," Mercedes said shaking her head silently.  
Santana placed her napkin on the table, got up from her seat and walked out.  
"Excuse me," Mercedes said, getting up from the table as well.  
Mercedes found Santana in the foyer pacing back and forth.  
"Did you hear what he called me? Who the hell does he think he is?!" Santana said.  
Her eyes were blotched and red.  
"Yeah I heard," Mercedes said.  
Santana folded her arms as they trembled.  
Mercedes was the only friend Santana had that understood how sensitive she was about her appearance.  
Santana took a seat in a chair. Mercedes put her hand on her shoulder.  
Rachel entered the foyer.  
"What the hell is wrong with you Santana?!" she whispered angrily.  
"Not now," Mercedes said to her.  
"He called me a quadroon!" Santana exclaimed.  
Rachel rolled her eyes.  
"Quadroon is not a bad word Santana! It's means a fourth black. It's what you are," Rachel said.  
"He branded me like a fucking horse!" Santana said through tears.  
"You are not going to ruin this night for us," Rachel said.  
"Leave us alone before I really ruin your night Rachel!" Mercedes snapped.  
Rachel, somewhat startled, went back to the dining hall.  
She passed Puck on her way in.  
Puck saw Santana leaning her head on Mercedes lap in the chair.  
"Is she okay?" Puck asked.  
"She's fine," Mercedes said, brushing Santana's hair with her fingers. "Just tired."  
"I'll take her back to the common room," Puck said.  
"Thanks," Mercedes said.  
Puck helped Santana up. He took her hand, walking her outside.  
Mercedes sighed.  
She felt bad for what happened but couldn't help but laugh internally at the look on Sam's grandfather's face when Santana asked him if he knew her milkman.

Mercedes got up from the chair and went in search for a powder room. She had gotten some of Santana's makeup on her fingers and wanted to wash her hands.  
After two minutes of searching downstairs she decided to venture to the second floor.  
There were multiple doors. Mercedes slowly pushed each one hoping to find a bathroom,.  
When she opened the door at the end of the hallway she found a large bedroom with books and posters on the wall.  
She assumed the room belonged to Sebastian, though knowing his family's wealth; he probably had more than one in the large house. Mercedes closed the door quietly.  
"Oh!"  
Mercedes bumped into someone in the dark hall.  
"I'm sorry," Blaine said.  
"Oh, Blaine," Mercedes said. "I got lost."  
"Yeah, it's easy to do here," Blaine said.  
Mercedes noticed Blaine was wearing a winter coat and scarf.

"So…what are you doing here?" Mercedes asked, realizing Blaine wasn't at the dinner and had just appeared from nowhere.  
"Oh um, well I was supposed to study with Sebastian tonight. I was actually going to return his class notes, but uh I could just give it to him tomorrow" Blaine said.  
Mercedes raised an eyebrow at Blaine's sporadic speech pattern.  
"I forgot he was having that dinner tonight," Blaine continued, looking down at his feet.  
"Why don't you come to the dinner? I'm pretty sure you'd be welcome seeing as you and Sebastian are friends and all-"  
"No!" Blaine said. "No-no, I really should be going."  
"Hey…Do you want me to give the notes to Sebastian?" Mercedes said.  
"Oh! Well," Blaine said, patting his jacket pockets. "No actually I must have forgotten them. I'll give them to him when I see him."  
Blaine quickly went down the stairs and out the front door.

"Hm," Mercedes said, shrugging her shoulders.  
Turns out the bathroom was on the opposite side of the hallway. Mercedes washed her hands and fixed her hair.  
By the time she made it back downstairs, they were already serving the fourth course.

* * *

Mercedes breathed in the smoke engulfing the empty classroom.  
Her lungs were on fire, as water ran from her eyes.  
"HELP!"  
Mercedes ran to the door, banging on the glass for someone to let her out.  
A dark faceless figure appeared on the other side of the glass, holding the door shut.  
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" Mercedes screamed.  
Mercedes turned around to see if she could find something to break the glass.  
She shrieked when she saw Karofsky sitting calmly in a desk.  
His face was pale and thin, but the smoke did not seem to be affecting him.  
He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes.  
"GO AWAY!" Mercedes yelled, backing into a corner.  
"Mercy…Look at my hands… Look at my hands!" Karofsky said, his ghostly voice echoing through the room.  
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Mercedes yelled.  
Karofsky stood up.  
"LOOK AT THEM!"

Mercedes' eyes popped open.  
Her bed sheets were kicked to the floor. She looked to her left. Quinn and Tina were sleeping soundly in their beds.  
Mercedes touched her forehead, wiping the beads of sweat that had formed during her nightmare.  
She sat up, looking at the clock on the desk.  
It was almost midnight.  
"Psst!"  
Mercedes looked up.  
"Psst!"  
Realizing the noise was coming from someplace else, she looked over to the balcony.  
Mercedes grabbed her heart when she saw Sam's head poke through the drapes.  
"Sam?!" Mercedes whispered, getting out of bed. "Are you trying to scare me to death?"  
Sam was still fully dressed in his suit from dinner. He motioned quietly for Mercedes to come outside on the balcony with him.  
Mercedes rolled her eyes and smirked. She should have figured by now Sam would be climbing up her window, especially with her father miles away.  
Mercedes opened the glass sliding door, leading to the balcony, then closed it quietly behind her.  
Sam had a smug look on his face as he looked his girlfriend up and down.  
"Sam, why aren't you asleep?" Mercedes asked.  
"Aren't you going to ask me how I got up here?" Sam said.  
"By this point I've come to the conclusion you're some strange breed of Spider-man and Romeo Montague," Mercedes replied, causing Sam to chuckle.  
"MJ…" Sam said, while playfully tugging at Mercedes' night slip-gown, "I never knew you wore silk to bed."  
"That's because it's none of your business," Mercedes said, slapping his hand away and closing her matching silk robe.  
Mercedes squinted her eyes at Sam who put his hands in front of Mercedes like he was measuring her like a painter.  
"What are you doing?" Mercedes asked.  
"I think this is my favorite look on you," Sam said.  
"You know I'm starting to think you're choosing my best looks based on the amount of clothes I'm wearing Sam Evans," Mercedes accused.  
"Ha, not true! I didn't even notice your breast poking out of your robe," Sam said smugly.  
Mercedes gasped, tying her robe tighter.  
Sam laughed at his girlfriend's failed attempt to cover her voluptuous curves.

"You know I'm gonna marry you," Sam said suddenly.

This caused Mercedes, who had been observing the lake in the distance, to turn her head in Sam's direction.

"Really… Well I'm glad you've made this important decision for the both of us," Mercedes replied sarcastically.

She leaned her arms on the edge of the balcony. Sam watched as the moon beam shun directly on Mercedes' profile. He sighed inwardly, knowing this would be one of the moments he would think back on for years to come.  
"I can't get married till after dental school," Mercedes said. "And I'm not saying I'm marrying you."

Sam stuck his tongue out at the thought of Mercedes studying to be a dental assistant, but then frowned when something occurred to him that hadn't before.  
"You know MJ…You never told me what you want to do after high school," Sam said, leaning next to her.  
"You know what I'm going to do," Mercedes told him.  
"I know what your dad wants you to do. I know what I want you to do. But what do you want? What's your dream?"  
"…My dream?" Mercedes said, looking out at the lake.  
A girly smile appeared on her face and she quickly shook her head as if to push the idea out of her head.  
"What is it? Movie star? Broadway?" Sam said.  
"Paris."  
Mercedes looked down embarrassed at her answer.  
"Paris, France?" Sam said.  
"It's stupid I know," Mercedes said, shooing the idea away  
"No no, tell me," Sam said, getting excited.  
Mercedes shook her head, the smile appearing on her face.  
"…When I was a little girl, my auntie took me to Paris. Sam… it was the most beautiful place I'd ever seen. It was loud and there were drunken artists lying on the ground and there were loud French people yelling at each other from their windows."  
Sam scratched the back of his head.  
"That doesn't seem so beautiful," Sam said.  
Mercedes chuckled.

"I remember there was a French baker swearing at this competing shop owner next to him. I sat outside of the bakery watching them; one white, one black. The white baker looked down at me and said 'excuse moi mademoiselle,' picked me up and moved me to the sidewalk so I wouldn't get hurt."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"The black store owner punched out the white baker and called him a couchant – a pig."

Sam chuckled at the odd story.

"I was seven but I remember it like it was yesterday cause it was at that moment when I realized that baker saw me as a girl, not negro girl or a white girl, just a little girl. And those two men hated each other, not because the color of their skin, but because… they both sold bread on the same street I guess."  
Mercedes looked up at Sam.

"A negro can do anything there, be anyone," Mercedes told him.  
Sam just stared at Mercedes, whose smile faded away with her childhood memory.

"Anyway, I told you it was silly," she said defensively.

"You should go back," Sam said. "I'll take you."

Mercedes snorted.

"No way. My dad would die if I decided to drop everything to go to Paris. What would I do there?" Mercedes said.  
"Sing, got to school, design, anything you want. You said in France a negro can be anything they want right?" Sam said.

Mercedes smiled, shaking her head.

"You're trouble," Mercedes said.

"Here," Sam said.

He stuck out his pinkie finger, clasping Mercedes' finger in his.

"I, Sam Evans, promise you, Mercedes Jones, to help you get Paris," Sam said.

Mercedes blushed, unable to keep her repressed childhood dream from taking over her heart. She looked into Sam's eyes. He was a boy, just a regular boy in her school, but for some reason, when he spoke, she believed him with all her heart. If Mercedes told Sam she wanted the moon, she'd be afraid Sam would throw the solar system out of orbit trying to accomplish it.

Sam leaned in kissing Mercedes softly on the lips.  
"So, what do you want?" Mercedes whispered.  
"…I thought it was obvious," Sam said, kissing Mercedes again.  
"You know what I mean Sam…"  
Sam touched loose lock of hair dangling on Mercedes cheek.  
"I want to be happy. I want my parents to live to be a hundred. I want Stacie to grow up smart like you or Quinn. I want to not be drafted to Vietnam. I want to get old and have daughters that look like you," Sam said, with a small chuckle. "That's what I want."  
Mercedes smiled as Sam still played with her strand of hair.  
"I used to want more. I wanted to be a Smythe."  
"You are…well at least half," Mercedes said.  
"There are the last thing I want to be now," Sam said seriously.  
Mercedes, who didn't want to agree or disagree with that statement, just kept silent. Something about what Sam said made her remember Quinn, causing her to feel guilty about what she said to her earlier that day.  
"You should go before the girls wake up," Mercedes said

Mercedes put her finger to her lips, motioning for Sam to keep silent. She opened the sliding glass door, stepping back into the bedroom where the girls were sleeping.

Quietly, Mercedes and Sam walked down the hallway.  
They took even more cautious steps when they found Mr. Schuester asleep in the common room.  
When Sam and Mercedes made it to the second floor, Sam stopped Mercedes on the stairs.

Sam stole one more kiss. Sam managed to sink his hands in Mercedes loose robe, slowly squeezing her waste. This time Mercedes lingered into it the kiss, moaning slightly near the end. Sam took it as a sign.  
"Meet me tomorrow night…. near the edge of the harbor?" Sam asked.

Mercedes nodded.

Sam bit his bottom lip.

Mercedes smirked.  
"And I think these belong to you," Mercedes said, slowly moving Sam's hands from her bottom and out of her robe.  
"Oh, sorry," Sam said in a daze.  
"You have never been so un-sorry in your whole life Sam Evans," Mercedes said cutting her eyes at him.  
"You're right," Sam said, smacking Mercedes' butt before quickly running away to his room.  
Mercedes shook her head, slowly heading back upstairs.  
When she made it back to the bedroom, Santana was quietly changing into her nighty in the corner.  
"Where were you?" Mercedes asked.  
"…With Puck," Santana said, raising one eyebrow furtively.  
Mercedes resisted from yelling "WHAT?" and instead just put her hands in the air in defeat.  
"We'll talk tomorrow," Mercedes whispered, getting into bed next to Santana.  
…

* * *

It was two in the morning.  
Mercedes eyes were glued to the wall. She couldn't find it in herself to risk going back to sleep and having that horrible dream again. Not to mention her stomach was grumbling every five minutes.  
When it happened again, Santana kicked Mercedes in her side.  
"Mercedes I can't sleep with your tummy singing backup for James Brown," Santana grumbled.  
"Sorry, I missed dinner," Mercedes said.  
"Well, go to the kitchen and eat something. I need my beauty rest," Santana told her before rolling over.  
Mercedes got up from the bed, putting back on her robe.  
She quietly snuck down the stairs, passed the second floor where the boys slept, all the way to the front entrance.  
She took a right around the corner, trying to remember where the secretary said the kitchen was.  
She let her fingers slide against the wall as she walked, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. When she felt a swinging door, she knew she made it to the kitchen.  
She felt for light switch. When she flicked it on, the large kitchen filled with a soft humming light.  
Mercedes went around the island to the pantry, hoping to find something she could whip up fast.  
There was an open box of instant oatmeal, which she thought would be easy enough to make without a big mess.  
Mercedes grabbed a pot from under the stove, filling it with water. She looked for the matches then realized the stove was electric. She turned it to high, before going back to the pantry.  
As Mercedes reached for the cinnamon on the top shelf, she heard echoing footsteps, coming down the hall.  
She gasped, quickly tip-toeing to the light switch. She turned it off, making the kitchen completely dark.  
The footsteps were getting closer. The light in the hallway cast two shadowy figures coming towards the kitchen. Mercedes, with the oatmeal still in her hand, hid behind the island in the middle of the room.  
The footsteps stopped.  
Mercedes held her breath.  
She heard someone push open the kitchen door.  
"I don't think we should be doing this now," said Blaine.  
Mercedes recognized the voice.  
"Would you relax? You're too tense," said Sebastian.  
"I don't think we're being careful enough. What if we get caught?" Blaine said.  
"If we do, it's your fault. I told you to come around the house when no one is home," Sebastian told him.  
"You forgot to mention the dinner," Blaine reminded him.  
"Well, as long as no one saw you," Sebastian said.  
The two boys got silent.  
Mercedes heard the distinct sound of two lips meeting.  
"Wait," Sebastian said, going over to the wall, flicking the switch.  
"You know I prefer it with the lights on," he said.  
"Someone might see us," Blaine said anxiously.  
"It's two in the morning. Who could possibly catch us? Now you still owe me for covering your room & board this semester. Are you going to compensate me or what?"  
Silence filled the room again.  
Mercedes quietly peeked from over the island.  
She saw Sebastian with his hand on Blaine's shoulder kissing him on the lips.  
Mercedes ducked back down.  
At the most inopportune time, her stomach grumbled.  
Blaine and Sebastian's lips parted.  
"…Did you hear that?" Blaine asked.  
Mercedes touched her stomach, trying to shush it as if there were a child inside it.  
The boys listened for the sound again. Mercedes stomach stayed quiet.  
The boys started kissing again.  
Mercedes got on her knees, quietly crawling to the front of the island to make her escape.  
Just then then the water in the pot started to boil over.  
"What is that?" Blaine said, turning around. He walked to the stove just when Mercedes got out of view.  
"…The stove's on," Blaine said, as Sebastian came behind him, turning off the switch.  
"Someone was here," Blaine said.  
Sebastian, looked on the ground where there laid box of oatmeal.  
"No…someone _is_ here," Sebastian said, walking slowly around the island.  
Realizing her cover was blown, Mercedes quickly rushed out the kitchen door.  
The boys turned around.  
Blaine quickly rushed after the stranger.  
By the time Blaine had made it to the hallway, Mercedes was already going up the stairs.  
"Oh my God!" Blaine said.  
"Who was it?" Sebastian said, meeting Blaine in the hallway.  
"I think it was Mercedes Jones." Blaine said, holding his forehead in despair.  
"Miss Jones…" Sebastian said, nowhere near as panicked as his friend.  
"Do you think she saw us?" Blaine asked.  
"No, she just felt like running for her life for the exercise," Sebastian said sarcastically. "She definitely saw."  
"What do we do? We should go after her and explain," Blaine said.  
"Explain what? How your lips fell on mine? Don't be absurd. Just go back to the dormitory…I'll handle it," said Sebastian calmly.

* * *

Mercedes was the last to fall asleep and the first to wake up the next morning.  
When she had prayed earlier that weekend to have a distraction from Karofsky and the fire, she wasn't expecting that distraction to be in the form of Sam's cousin making out with another boy.  
"Are you okay?" Tina asked.  
Mercedes stopped brushing her teeth and spit into the sink.  
"I'm fine. Why?" Mercedes said.  
"I don't know…" Tina said, brushing her hair. "You kinda seem…on edge."  
"Really, that's odd," Mercedes said, rinsing out her mouth.  
She left the bathroom.  
This was torture. Mercedes would be the first to admit she had misfortune of being a gossiper. Most girls her age were. But she could not justify the hypocrisy of exposing Sebastian and Blaine's secret, when she was keeping Kurt's homosexuality a secret for him. She had made up her mind last night. She would not tell anyone about what she saw, not even Sam.  
"We're heading down to breakfast! I want to get there before the boys eat all the good stuff" Santana called.  
Mercedes sat at the side of her bed, putting on her heels.  
"Just go ahead without me," Mercedes told them. "I'll catch up."  
Santana, Quinn, and Tina left Mercedes in the room.  
Mercedes put on her gray sweater over her black dress. She was used to wearing more vibrant colors, but she was trying to stand out as little as possible today.  
She got up, going over to the mirror.  
"You never know; it could've been a weird dream," she told herself.  
There was a knock on the door.  
A servant Mercedes had seen at the Smythe house opened the door slowly.  
"This is for you miss," he said, handing her envelope.  
"Thanks," Mercedes said, taking it.  
The servant left the room, closing the door behind him.  
Mercedes sat on the bed.  
There was no sender name or address on the envelope. It only said on the front, _To Miss Jones_.  
Mercedes opened the envelope.  
Inside the envelope were ten crisp one-hundred dollar bills.  
Mercedes let the envelope fall to the ground with the cash still inside.  
She knew hush money when she saw it.

When Mercedes arrived at the dining hall everyone was already seated. The New Directions had a table to themselves. There was a plate set for Mercedes next to Mike.  
Sam looked up and saw Mercedes. He smiled and winked at her.  
At a nearby table sat the Warblers. Blaine sat at the edge of the table being unusually quiet.  
Sebastian sat on the opposite side with his normal smug smile, while he discussed songs with other warblers.  
Mercedes passed the New Directions table, going over to Blaine. She put her hand on his shoulder, whispering into his ear.  
"Please return this to whomever it belongs to, and tell Sebastian his secret is safe," Mercedes murmured, before secretly placing the envelope on Blaine's lap.  
She smiled when she lifted up her head as if she had merely been giving Blaine a compliment, before going over to sit with Mike.  
"Morning," Mike said, who hadn't noticed the encounter like the rest of the New Directions members.  
Mike poured Mercedes some orange juice.  
"Thank you," Mercedes said, taking a sip.  
"You look nice. Gray is your color," Mike said, passing Mercedes a croissant.  
"Really?" Mercedes said, not expecting to hear that.  
"Yeah," Mike said, biting into his toast, "It makes you stand out."  
Mercedes looked around at the other members at the table.  
Indeed, she was definitely the only one wearing black or gray, making her more noticeable.  
"That wasn't what I was going for," she said.  
As Mercedes brought her glass back to her lips, she saw Sebastian above the rim looking at her.  
He averted his eyes when he noticed Mercedes saw him.

* * *

Sam, Mike, and Puck, who were sharing a bedroom, got changed into their suits for the afternoon performance.  
"Psst, Puck," Sam said.  
Puck, who was the only one still shirtless, hopped over to Sam's side of the room.  
"What's up?" Puck said, buckling his pants.  
Sam leaned into Puck.  
"Hey…you wouldn't happen to have a condom would you?" Sam whispered.  
When Puck pulled back from Sam with a big goofy grin on his face, Sam knew immediately he had made a mistake.  
"OH SHIT" Puck exclaimed, jumping on Sam's back.  
"Would you chill out?" Sam said, pushing Puck off of him.  
"What's going on?" Mike asked.  
"I'll tell you what's going on. Big man Sam is finally going to give little Miss MJ the goods tonight," Puck said.  
"Would shut your fucking mouth Puck?" Sam said, throwing a pillow at Puck.  
"I am sooo jealous Sam," Puck said, flopping on the bed. "I bet MJ is a righteous lay."  
"HEY! That's my girlfriend you're talking about!" Sam said, pushing Puck off of his bed. "And we're not gonna do it okay!"  
Puck stood up, narrowing his eyes.  
"Oh yeah?" he said. "Then why did you ask for a condom?"  
"I don't know…Just in case," Sam said.  
"Right, just in case MJ slipped and fell on your dick," said Puck.  
"I swear to God, Puck, if you don't keep mouth shut about this," Sam began.  
Puck put his hands up in surrender.  
"Hey man, I know MJ's a good girl. I'd never do or say anything to taint her reputation. She's like a sister to me…A completely unrelated sister with huge jugs I like to stick my face in-"  
This time, when Sam through a jar of hair gel, it hit Puck directly in the forehead, causing him to crash to the ground.  
"I think you gave me a combustion! " Puck said, grabbing his head.  
"I think you mean concussion," Mike said, "And you deserve it."  
"Oh, don't act I'm the only one who has fantasized about MJ okay. You're just as guilty as I am Michael Chang," Puck said, checking the mirror to see if the jar left a mark.  
Mike remained quiet as he straightened his tie.  
"That's ridiculous," Mike said.  
"The hell it is! I caught you ogling her a few times," Puck said, "Not to mention that time you fell asleep in Physics, and you were saying things in your sleep and you said-"  
Mike chopped Puck in the throat before he could continue.  
Sam held his head in his hands.  
"Wait a minute, wait a minute…Who does NOT have thing for my girlfriend?" Sam asked.  
Puck and Mike thought about it.  
"Finn is the only one" Sam said. "You guys should be ashamed of yourselves."  
"Woah woah, Finn, I'm pretty sure Finn has checked out her butt at least twice."  
"I cannot deal with you guys right now. I just wanted the condom for just in case, but it was stupid of me to ask," Sam said.  
"Hey don't worry about it. Virgins never get pregnant on their first time," said Puck.  
"Who told you that?" Mike said.  
"It's a proven fact," Puck said confidently.

* * *

The girls gathered together in their matching hot pink dresses.  
The Warblers all sat in the front row of the music auditorium.  
"Hands together," Mercedes said.  
"Ready? Let show these preppies how we do it in McKinley style," she said.  
Quinn, Mercedes, Rachel, Santana, and Tina started humming their respective keys.  
They stopped when the curtain pulled back revealing the stage and dolled up girls.  
"One two – one two three four"

**_Tina_**_: He went away and you hung around  
And bothered me, every night  
And when I wouldn't go out with you  
You said things that weren't very nice_

The girls started clapping, forming a beat with their hands and heels.

**_Tina_**_: My boyfriend's back and you're gonna be in trouble  
**Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel and Santana**: Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back!_

**_Tina_**_: You see him comin' better cut out on the double  
**Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel and Santana:** Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back_

**_Tina:_**_ You been spreading lies that I was untrue  
**Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel and Santana** Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back  
**Tina**: So look out now cause he's comin' after you  
**Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel and Santana** Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back_

The Warblers clapped along, some of them whistling at the dancing girls.

**_Tina_**_: My boyfriend's back he's gonna save my reputation  
**Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel, and Santana**: Hey-la-day-la my boyfriend's back  
**Tina**: If I were you I'd take a permanent vacation  
**Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel, and Santana:** Hey-la, hey-la, my boyfriend's back  
**Tina**: Yeah, my boyfriend's back  
**Mercedes, Quinn, Rachel, and Santana:** La-day-la, my boyfriend's back  
**Tina**: Look out now, yeah, my boyfriend's back  
La-day-la, my boyfriend's back!_

Sam and the other boys, who were wearing black tuxedos with pink ties, pushed out a piano being played by Mr. Schuester. The girls faded out, going backstage. The curtains opened more, revealing Finn tapping the symbols on a drum set.  
Mr. Schuester started playing a jazzy scale.  
Puck stepped forward, wearing a fedora hat.  
"I'm coming home baby," he sang, his voice echoing in the auditorium. "I'm coming home right away."  
Sam, Mike, and Kurt started to croon in the background, snapping their fingers.  
Mercedes stepped out onto the stage.

**_Mercedes_**_: Come on home!  
**Puck**: I'm comin home baby now.  
**Mercedes**: You know I'm waitin here for you  
**Puck**: I'm comin home reealll soon  
**Mercedes**: You been gone  
**Puck**: I'm coming home baby now.  
**Mercedes**: You don't know what I'm gonna do  
**Puck**: I'm comin home I know I'm overdue_

Puck followed Mercedes around the stage as she swished her hips seductively.

**_The boys in three part harmony_**_: Since you went awaayyy-  
**Puck**: Expect me any day now real soon_

Puck tugged at Mercedes' dress before spinning her around. They both slowly twisted themselves to the ground slowly rising up.

_**Mercedes**: Come on home  
**Puck**: I'm comin' home, baby now  
**Mercedes**: You know I'm counting everyday  
**Puck**: I'm comin' home now, yeah-yeah-yeah!  
**Mercedes**: Use the phone  
**Puck**: I'm comin' home, baby now  
**Mercedes**: And baby let me hear you say  
**Puck**: I'm comin' home, you're hearin' what I say  
**Mercedes**: That you're comin' home…I will lay awake  
**Puck**: And I never will go away  
I'm comin' home!_

The audience applauded as the music faded out, and Sam, Mike, and Kurt harmony were left humming in the background until the curtains closed.  
The New Directions celebrated behind stage.  
Tina and Mercedes embraced.  
"That was fantastic, Tina. I knew you would nail it," Mercedes said.  
"What about you?" Tina said. "I feel like you transform every time you're on stage."  
Mercedes panted while big smile on her face refused to dissipate.  
She loved this. The nervous knot that forms right in the beginning of the performance, then the sudden rush of adrenaline, and the eventual high when the nerves go away. She loved every moment of it.  
As Sam watched Mercedes bounce around with the other girls, he relished even more the alone time they'd get to share later in the evening.

* * *

"Come on in you guys!"  
The New Directions arrived at the Warbler exclusive clubhouse near the edge of campus.  
The house was one story but large enough to fit everyone comfortably. There was a piano in the corner, a pool table in the back, and shelves filled with records, lining the walls.  
The warblers got up from the couch so the girls could sit down. The girls found it strange to see them without their uniforms. They actually looked like regular high school boys.  
Ray Charles was playing out of the record player.  
One of the third years helped pass around some root beers for the members.  
"Alright, what did you guys think. Really?" Santana said, as one of the boys helped her light her cigarette.  
The boys looked at each other before answering.  
"Really," began a blonde warbler named Jeff, "I thought you were fantastic."  
The New Directions kids let out sigh of relief.  
"Truly marvelous," said another Warbler, sipping his root beer.  
"That means a lot," Mercedes said.  
A fourth year warbler sat up from the floor.  
**Thad**: You guys are new to acapella, so some of your harmonies were weak. But you have many strengths, the first being that just about all of you have a lead voice.  
**Trent**: Very true  
**Thad**: Miss Chang, your tone is so crisp, clear, and seductive. I truly commend you.  
**Tina**: Thanks  
**Thad**: But if you keep singing from your chest like that, you'll pass out before the end of the song.  
Tina blushed as some of the members patted her on the back and chuckled.  
**Blaine**: I think you should switch Finn from a barro-tenor to straight tenor. He can go higher than he thinks. Perhaps he could strengthen his falsetto.  
The other warblers nodded in agreement.  
**Thad**: Now Kurt is excellent as Tenor. My only worry is that all he can sing in is falsetto. You don't have that many boys in your choir, so Kurt may have to expand his range a little.  
Mercedes and the others were surprised at how serious the Warblers took the musicianship of glee club, but she was glad that they were being helpful with their criticism.  
**Wes**: I noticed Quinn is the only alto you have. That'll have to change later on, if you want to sing more vocally challenging pieces. At least one more girl should do it. But I like Quinn's voice. You haven't been singing long, so you've yet to develop a vibrato, but it'll come with practice.  
**Blaine**: Santana's voice is fabulous.  
**Santana**: why thank you  
**Blaine**: But I think you should be singing alto.  
**Santana**: I can hit all the high notes.  
**Blaine**: True, but none of the other girls have a natural low register like you do. Plus you might strain yourself trying to keep up with Mercedes.  
Santana didn't like hearing that.  
**Thad**: Rachel's voice is truly exceptional. Made for Broadway.  
**Blaine**: I couldn't agree more.  
**Thad**: You were a bit flat at some point though…It could be an inner ear thing.  
The other girls tried to keep a straight face when Rachel's jaw dropped.  
**Blaine**: I think Sam is great. He has the same issue as Tina though. You're diaphragm is there for a reason.  
**Jeff**: I enjoy Mike's bass. A group is only as good as their bassist I always say.  
**Trent**: That's because you're a bassist.  
The group laughed.  
**Thad**: Now Noah is truly the dark horse.  
**Blaine**: Yes!  
**Thad**: You sound like Sammy Davis Jr. and Dean Martin somehow defied biology and had a child.  
**Puck**: Thanks. I think…  
**Trent**: It's a compliment.  
**Jeff**: Totally, if I had your voice, girls wouldn't intimidate me. You must teach me your ways sir.  
**Puck**: Anytime.  
Mercedes patted Puck on the back.  
**Thad**: I would have to say Mercedes is your best singer  
The other Warblers concurred.  
**Trent**: And performer  
**Wes**: It's actually very odd, because it almost looks as if you're not trying.  
**Trent**: I was going to say the same thing. Truly a gift.  
**Thad**: With your voice, you could probably sing just about anything. You have jazzy tone like Sarah Vaughn.  
**Trent**: No, it's broadway  
**Wes**: Actually I would say Rhythm and Blues  
**Jeff**: Are you kidding, it's pure Rock n Roll-  
**Thad**: Whatever it is! She could sing it.  
The boys all agreed again.  
**Thad**: How long have you been singing Mercedes?  
**Mercedes**: Umm, maybe since I'm seven.  
**Wes**: It shows. How much vocal training have you had?  
Mercedes shook her head. "None."  
**Thad**: Well… I think you're past needing a vocal coach. You're breathing his fine…Which genre of music to plan to pursue after high school?  
"Oh…. I'm not," Mercedes told them.  
Everyone got quiet.  
"Shame…" said Thad.  
"Well!" Wes said, changing the subject. "It's now your turn. Feel free to be frank New Directions."  
"What's there to say? You guys were perfect," Kurt said.  
"Seriously…You guys were impeccable," said Tina.  
"Come now. We've received third place in each competition we've ever entered. There must be something we could improve on," Thad said.  
"Well…" Mercedes began.  
"You guys need to learn how to move," Santana said. "Yall should be called the Dalton Stiffs instead of the Warblers."  
"What she said, just not as harsh," Mercedes said.  
All the Warblers groaned.  
"I knew it!" said Jeff, pushing hitting Trent sitting next to him on the floor..  
"It would take forever to learn new choreography," Thad said.  
"No, it really wouldn't" said Kurt.  
"We could teach you some dance steps tomorrow," Mercedes said.  
"Tomorrow, let's begin tonight!" said one Warbler.  
"I'm cool with that! Somebody get me a real drink," Santana said, getting up from the couch.  
Tina and Kurt went to the wall of records, looking for a decent song.  
Mercedes, who had finished her root beer, got up to find the trash can. She walked down the hallway until she reached the door that led to the garage.  
There were two large trash bins, filled to the rim with garbage.  
"Hmph, that's problematic," Mercedes muttered, biting her lip.  
"Do you always talk to yourself?"  
"Sebastian," said Mercedes, startled by Sam's cousin.  
Sebastian rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.  
"I've found that no problem can't be solved...If you're willing to get dirty, " he told Mercedes, as he stuffed the bottle into the full bag of trash.  
Mercedes felt there was double meaning in that statement.  
"Thank you," said Mercedes.  
"I'm not sure we've been formally introduced. " said Sebastian.  
"I think we're past formalities," Mercedes replied.  
Sebastian smiled.  
"True...So how much do you want. Apparently a thousand dollars is an insult to you."  
"The money was the insult, not the amount, " Mercedes explained.  
"Then what do you want? ...I'm a very resourceful man," Sebastian said.  
Mercedes moved away from Sebastian who had managed to back her in a corner.  
"Nothing from you...Let's just agree to leave each other alone."  
Mercedes walked away from Sam's cousin hoping that would end the conflict.  
"Everyone has a price Miss Jones."  
Mercedes ignored him, continuing to walk away.  
"... And before tomorrow's end, I'll find out yours." Sebastian said to himself.

* * *

Sam checked his breath as he waited on the bench for Mercedes.  
"Hey."  
Sam turned around to find Mercedes standing in front of him.  
She was wearing pants and a sweater due to the cold weather. Her hair was in a curly bun.  
Mercedes nervously looked over her shoulder.  
"What's wrong?" Sam said.  
"I don't think we should do this tonight," Mercedes told him.  
Sam tried not to look disappointed.  
"You're right," he said, putting his hands in his pockets.  
"I am?"Mercedes said, somewhat surprised Sam was being so agreeable.  
"Yeah...," Sam told her. "I know it's your first time and it should be special-"  
"Wait what? Sam, what did you think was going to happen tonight?" Mercedes asked, genuinely confused.  
Sam's face suddenly became much redder.  
"I thought... Nevermind it doesn't matter-"  
"...You thought I was going to sleep with you in the middle of the woods?" Mercedes said raising an eyebrow.  
Sam shook his head 'no' like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  
Mercedes scoffed, putting her hand on her hip.  
"Sam, what if you got me pregnant?!"  
"I thought virgins couldn't get pregnant on their first time," Sam said.  
Mercedes started to chuckle. "Who on earth told you that?" she asked.  
Mercedes laughed even harder. Sam wasn't sure what to do.  
"Sam," Mercedes said, fanning her now watery eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed this hard.  
She shook her head as the giggles finally subsided.  
"Are you okay?" Sam asked, trying to figure out what was going on.  
"How do you do it Sam... How do you make me forget everything?" Mercedes said with a smile.  
Sam shrugged his shoulders.  
Mercedes looked up at the starry sky.  
"...What are you doing?"  
Mercedes turned eyes away from the stars.  
"I'm thanking God that I have you in my life," Mercedes said sweetly.  
Sam pulled Mercedes toward him.  
Forgetting her worries for the moment, Mercedes rest her head on Sam's chest.  
"You won't ever have to feel afraid as long as I'm here," Sam told her.  
Blaine watched Sam and Mercedes embrace behind the tree.

* * *

Mercedes quietly snuck up the stairs to the girls common room.  
Quinn sat by the fire. She was wearing her reading glasses.  
"What are you still doing up?" Mercedes asked, walking up to her.  
Quinn, somewhat embarrassed, held up the papers in her hand.  
"The library at Dalton has a copy of Dr. King's 1963 letters from Birmingham," Quinn said, taking off her glasses.  
Quinn sighed to herself. "My father always told me he was a troublemaker. That's why the police kept throwing him in jail."  
Quinn looked at the letters.  
"You know...you made me feel really stupid yesterday Mercedes."  
"...That wasn't my intention," Mercedes told Quinn.  
Quinn nodded, a small smile forming on her face.  
"...I'm glad you did."  
Quinn looked up at Mercedes. Mercedes was surprised to see tears in her eyes.  
"I want to learn," said Quinn.  
Mercedes bent over Quinn, pulling her in a hug. "Okay," Mercedes told her.  
The two friends pulled apart from each other  
They laughed at each other, wiping their eyes.

* * *

"Did you follow her?" Sebastian asked.  
Sebastian and Blaine met secretly in the horse stable.  
Blaine nodded.  
"And?" Sebastian said impatiently.  
Blaine shrugged his shoulders.  
"Nothing happened," Blaine lied. "...I think maybe she won't say anything about us."  
Sebastian paced back and forth with his hand on his chin.  
"She's hiding something...I know it."  
"I think we should leave her alone," Blaine said.  
"Excuse me?" said Sebastian. "If I want your opinion Anderson, I'll give it to you."  
Blaine took a seat on a nearby stool as Sebastian closed his eyes and rubbed his eyebrow.  
After half a minute of silence, he opened his eyes when something came to him.  
"The congressman's son," Sebastian said with a smirk. "Why didn't I see it before."  
"What?" said Blaine, blowing on his hands. The cold was getting to him.  
"Jones isn't interested in money...Why?" Sebastian said, thinking out loud. "I'll tell you why, because she had alternative source of revenue. Hummel is that revenue. She is doing something or hiding something for him. I want to know what it is."  
"That's not it," Blaine said.  
"If not Hummel then who?" Sebastian asked.  
Blaine nervously rubbed his shoulder.  
He knew the truth about Mercedes, but didn't want to be the person to tell Sebastian his beloved cousin was having an affair with her.  
"I...I don't know." said Blaine.  
"Jones already doesn't trust us, so we have to go straight to the source. Kurt Hummel has a secret. Find out what it is... by any means."

**To be continued...**

**Songs used: Sound of Music's "Do Re Mi", TheAngels' "My Boyfriend's Back" , Mel Torme's Comin Home Baby**


	13. Chapter 13

**New Directions: Lima, Ohio 1965 part 13 Dalton Academy Special part II**

Mercedes jumped awake. She groaned when she read the time on the desk clock.

4am.

She got out of bed and went to the restroom. She splashed her face with water. Somehow Karofsky found a way to haunt Mercedes from 100 miles away in jail.

Every time she closed her eyes he would come to her in a dream. The dream locations varied. Her last dream, she was having a thanksgiving dinner at her house. She looked to her left and Karofsky was sitting at the end of the table. He held out his hands. "Look at them Mercy!"

Every dream he did the same thing, and every time Mercedes ignored him.

Mercedes looked into the bathroom mirror. "Get out of my head," she said.

Mercedes got back into bed, but her eyes remained open until the sun came up.

At 9 o'clock she got dressed and went downstairs to talk to Kurt. She knocked his bedroom door that he was sharing with Finn.

"Kurt? Are you in there?" Mercedes said before opening the door.

"I have to talk to you-"

Mercedes stopped when she saw Blaine sitting next to Kurt on the bed. The two were laughing about something.

"Hey Mercedes," Kurt said.

"…Hey," Mercedes replied, keeping her eyes on Blaine, who was also smiling.

"What did you want to talk about?" Kurt asked.

"…Nothing important," Mercedes replied. "I'll see you later."

Mercedes closed the door.

* * *

Mercedes watched Kurt and Blaine eat lunch at the Warbler table in the dining hall.

"What in the world is going on?" she murmured.

This new blossoming friendship between Kurt and Blaine seemed innocent, but Mercedes knew better. Everything was too coincidental to her.

Blaine whispered something to Kurt, before they both got up and left.

"Now where are they going?" Mercedes said.

"You know you have a tendency to talk to yourself?" Santana said, who was sitting next to Mercedes the whole time.

* * *

Sam and Sebastian sat behind their family in church.

It was a Smythe tradition to always attend church together on Sunday mornings.

Sam was about to fall asleep when Sebastian nudged him.

"Let's ditch," Sebastian whispered.

Sebastian and Sam slipped out of this pew, leaving the sanctuary.

When they made it outside, Sebastian lit a cigarette.

"This definitely takes me back," Sam said, leaning on the brick wall with his hands in his coat pockets.

"Remember all the fun we had?" Sebastian asked, passing Sam the cigarette.

"Hmm, I remember you got that professor what's his name fired," Sam said as Sebastian passed him the smoke.

"Professor Goldblum! That fucking asshole," Sebatsian said, pulling out a flask from his pocket. "he gave me detention!"

"You deserved it," Sam said smiling. "You called him a small-dicked bastard if I remember correctly."

Sebastian smiled. "Oh yeah, he did have a small penis didn't he," he said.

"And how the hell would you know that? Did he show it to ya?" Sam said jokingly, passing Sebastian back his cigarette.

"Maybe," Sebastian said, raising his eyebrow mischievously.

"You're fucking weird man," Sam said, as Sebastian laughed.

"Hey, Sammy… what do you know about Mercedes Jones?" Sebastian asked, passing Sam the flask.

Sam got silent.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"…You know. Like what can you tell me about her?" Sebastian clarified, putting out the cigarette.

Sam tried to look as unbothered as possible.

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know…She's a girl?" Sam said, still not sure what Sebastian was up to.

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"I'm aware she's a girl Sam. I assumed you could tell me more, seeing as you saved her life and everything."

Sam scratched the back of his neck.

"Why do you wanna know about her?" Sam asked.

"…Let's just say she's caught my interest," Sebastian replied.

Sam gnawed at his top lip.

"She's a good girl," Sam said.

"Gotta love those," Sebastian said casually.

"Her dad's a dentist," Sam continued.

"Is she seeing anyone?"

Sam got notably tenser.

"Uh I don't know Sebastian. Why don't you ask her?" Sam said brutishly, unscrewing the flask.

Sebastian huffed, straightening his jacket.

"Maybe I will," Sebastian said slyly.

Sam took a gulp from the flask.

* * *

"Th-this isn't so scary," Kurt said as his body bounced up and down under the steed.

Blaine rode alongside Kurt on his horse. He wasn't bouncing so much seeing as this wasn't his first time riding.

Blaine chuckled as he watched Kurt's pale face grow even more frightened as they picked up the pace along the trail.

"You're sure you're okay?" Blaine asked, holding back a laugh.

"Uh huh. Woah There horsey!" Kurt said, when his horse kicked up its front legs.

"His name is Gaston," Blaine said, reaching out and petting the mane of Kurt's horse.

"I guess you're a natural at this stuff," Kurt said, as both horses slowed down.

"Me? No. It took a lot of practice," Blaine said.

Kurt quickly averted his gaze when he realized he was staring at Blaine for too long.

"So…uh. What made you want to come to Dalton? Is it like a family tradition?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shook his head.

"My father actually works for Sebastian's father," Blaine told him.

"A lawyer?"

"His driver," Blaine said softly.

"Oh.." Kurt said. "…I didn't mean-"

"No, it's alright," Blaine said. "…My father has always pushed me to want more for myself. To be a greater man than he is."

"Is that what you want?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know… Sometimes I don't think it's worth it," Blaine replied honestly.

"…But then again, If I didn't go to Dalton I would have never got to meet you," Blaine added while looking down bashfully.

Kurt's mouth got significantly dryer and his sweaty palms made it hard for him to hold on the reins. Blaine could just be extra sweet, but somehow Kurt felt that maybe Blaine could have _those_ kinds of feelings for him.

"You know Blaine I…I want to tell you-"

Before Kurt could finish his sentence, his head smacked the branch of a nearby tree.

"Oh my God Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, leaping off his horse.

He knelt down in front of Kurt, who lay flummoxed on the ground.

Kurt leaned up from the grass, a panicked look stricken on his face.

Blaine held Kurt's face between his hands, checking for bruises.

"Oh my God! My hair," Kurt said hysterically.

Completely taken aback by Kurt's superficial statement, Blaine started to chuckle.

"That may be the cutest thing I have ever heard," Blaine said, picking leaves out of Kurt's hair.

Kurt felt butterflies

Kurt, who couldn't care less about his hair now, stared deeply into Blaine's eyes.

Going with his gut, he leaned into kiss Blaine.

Blaine, who felt a sudden pang of guilt in his stomach pulled away.

"I can't do this," Blaine said.

"Oh God," said Kurt, even more embarrassed than he was before.

"I'm sorry Kurt," Blaine said, getting up from the ground.

Blaine got back on his horse and rode back to the stable.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Kurt as his eyes started to fill with tears.

In the span of a minute, what started out as the best day of his life quickly turned into his worst nightmare.

* * *

Kurt bumped into Mercedes on the way up the stairs.

"Kurt, I need to talk to you- what happened to your head?" Mercedes said, noticing a red bruise forming on the right side of Kurt's forehead.

"Just leave it alone okay," Kurt said, solemnly, heading to his room.

"Kurt, I really need to tell you some-"

"I don't care!" Kurt said, walking into his empty bedroom.

He slammed the door in Mercedes' face.

Mercedes, who had never seen Kurt this angry before in her life, walked away.

Kurt lay on his bed quietly, all the while experiencing an emotional overload in his brain.

There was a knock on his door.

"Go away," Kurt said.

There was a louder knock.

Kurt huffed, rolling off his bed.

"I told you to go-"

Kurt stopped mid-sentence when he opened his door to find Blaine standing there.

"Blaine-"

Without letting Kurt utter another word, Blaine placed a passionate kiss on Kurt's lips.

He pulled away slowly.

"I like you too," Blaine whispered, before quickly leaving.

Kurt touched his lips in shock.

* * *

Mercedes sat at the edge of her bed.

Maybe she was just overreacting at Blaine and Kurt spending time together, but it was extremely suspicious to Mercedes. It had Sebastian written all over it.

She walked to the door.

She had to get Kurt to listen to her.

"_There you go again- immersing yourself in someone else's problems."_

Mercedes turned around.

"Who said that?"

Mercedes saw no one.

She put her hand on the doorknob.

"_You can try to hide the fact that you can hear me, but it won't work."_

Mercedes turned around again.

Karofsky sat on her bed.

"I fell asleep again," Mercedes told herself.

"_You're not asleep," David said._

"What is this?" said Mercedes.

"_You know the truth," David said._

"I know nothing," Mercedes said backing away.

_"You know everything! The answers are right in front of you and you're choosing to ignore them," David said. "Look at my hands."_

There was a knock at the door.

David's image vanished.

Tina entered Mercedes' room.

"Are you alright?" Tina asked.

"I…don't think so," Mercedes said.

* * *

"You gotta be kidding me?" Sebastian said.

Blaine sat on the bed, while a chuckling Sebastian stood by the fireplace.

"This is too much. Here I am following a hunch, and I end up stumbling into a diamond mine," Blaine said. "Kurt Hummel, son of Congressman Burt Hummel is gay."

"It's kind of hypocritical to laugh at him, don't you think," Blaine said un-amused by Sebastian's glee.

"Because of a box instant oatmeal, I now have a congressman's son in my back pocket. Life is good," Sebastian said.

"I don't want to hurt Kurt," said Blaine.

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"It won't come to that. We'll make nice with him, take him under our wing. His being gay is merely…insurance that we can have his support in future endeavors."

"You mean blackmail…" Blaine said, disliking the situation more and more.

Sebastian went over to Blaine, kneeling in front of him. He kissed him tenderly on the lips, before lightly slapping him condescendingly on the cheek.

"That's politics sweetheart," Sebastian said harshly. "I'm proud of you Anderson. You saw an opportunity and you went for it. The Music benefit is tonight. You should convince Kurt to sing with the Warblers."

"You get him to do it. I'm done," Blaine said, getting up from the bed.

"Woah woah woah," Sebastian said, putting his hand on Blaine's chest to stop him.

"You still have a debt to me," Sebastian said.

"I don't care."

"I think you do care," Sebastian said. "Remember you came to me. I helped you, not your father, not your professors, ME. The school board would have had you kicked out mid-semester if I hadn't stepped in and helped you."

Blaine kept his eyes on the ground.

Sebastian lifted up Blaine's chin.

"I know what you're thinking. You're dad loves you and he'll understand if you tell him the truth. But he won't. He'll look at you like he doesn't know you, call you a faggot, and kick you out in the street. But I accept you as you are. No one else will."

Blaine moved Sebastian's hand.

"Kurt can't get hurt," Blaine said.

"He won't. I promise," Sebastian said, miming crossing his heart.

Blaine began to walk away. When his hand touched the doorknob, something came to him.

"What about Mercedes?" Blaine asked.

"What about her?" Sebastian said, lying on the bed.

"She saw us kissing in the kitchen. If we mess with Kurt, she may get upset and tell on us," Blaine said.

Sebastian sat up.

"…I'll take care of it."

* * *

Mercedes leaned against the wall phone in the front office of the next door dormitory.

After two minutes of desperately hoping Ms. Pillsbury would pick up the phone, Mercedes hung up. For the longest Mercedes thought she was coping well after everything that had happened to her, but the trauma and anxiety had manifested itself entirely into something she couldn't ignore.

Ms. Pillsbury was the only counselor she knew and the only person who wouldn't look at her like she was crazy.

Mercedes sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"You can't ignore me," Karofsky said, whose image had appeared once again next to her.

"Yes I can," Mercedes replied, leaving the phone.

"Do the right thing Mercy!" he called after her.

"Stop calling me that!"

Mercedes covered her ears until she made it out of the building and into the sunlight.

…

Mercedes climbed up the stairs to the girls rooms.

She had convinced herself on the trip back to the common room that she was merely suffering from sleep deprivation and a three hour nap would surely cure her.

When Mercedes opened the bedroom door, she was disturbed by the only thing worse than Karofsky's ghost haunting her.

Sebastian sat on Mercedes bed with his legs crossed.

"What are you doing up here?" Mercedes asked.

"Oh, I'm waiting for Quinn. I'm supposed to take her out on the lake," Sebastian said calmly.

Mercedes instinctively moved in front of the sock drawer, containing her dog tag necklace Sam gave her.

"You can wait for Quinn in the sitting area outside," Mercedes told him.

Sebastian got up from Mercedes' bed.

He walked toward her.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" Sebastian asked touching the side of Mercedes' hair. "I know this isn't your first time being this close to a homosexual. Is it."

Sebastian smiled, when shock flashed across Mercedes' face.

"Hmm that's what I thought," he said.

Mercedes smacked Sebastian's hand away.

**Mercedes**: I knew it. You're after Kurt.

**Sebastian**: Smart girl.

**Mercedes**: If you hurt him I'll-

**Sebastian**: What? Don't even let that stupid idea enter your head… If you even hint that you're going to expose me, I'll go straight to the press with my juicy politician's son story. It'll be so big no one will even care about what you have to say…that is, if anyone actually believes you.

**Mercedes**: …I'm not afraid of you.

**Sebastian**: Really, well good for you.

Sebastian made to leave the room.

"I'll tell Sam."

Sebastian turned around.

"What makes you think he'll believe you over me?" Sebastian asked.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out you have no friends, or you wouldn't need to blackmail people for favors. Since Sam's your cousin and only friend you don't have on salary, I'm pretty sure he's been close enough to you to figure out what a lying scumbag you are. So yeah… I think he'll believe me over you." said Mercedes.

Sebastian's calm face turned more cold.

"Make no mistake. Despite my sexuality I have no problem with hitting a woman," said Sebastian.

"…And I have no problem with killing a man," Mercedes replied.

"Well…that was a stupid thing to say," said Sebastian coming towards Mercedes.

"Sebastian, what're you doing in here?"

Quinn had just entered the room.

Mercedes moved away from Sebastian.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked.

Mercedes rushed out of the room, rushing down to the second floor.

"Mercedes!" Sam said, but Mercedes ignored him.

She was fuming.

Mercedes went straight to Kurt's room, not even stopping to knock.

When she opened the door, she saw Blaine touching the side of Kurt's face.

"Mercedes!" Kurt said jumping up. "Blaine was just teaching me the tenor part for the Warbler number. They asked me to help them."

"Get out Blaine! NOW!"

Blaine quickly got up.

Mercedes slammed the door and locked him out.

"What's up with you!?" Kurt exclaimed. "Have you lost it?!"

Mercedes went to Kurt's drawers, pulling out his clothes.

"You're going home Kurt," Mercedes said.

"Mercedes, what is going on?" Kurt said, as Mercedes threw the clothes into Kurt's suitcase.

**Mercedes**: Sebastian knows… He knows about you Kurt.

**Kurt**: Why were you so rude to Blaine?

**Mercedes**: Are you listening to me? Sebastian knows!

**Kurt**: …How?

**Mercedes**: How do you think? Blaine told him!

**Kurt**: Blaine wouldn't do that.

**Mercedes**: You don't know him!

**Kurt**: Neither do you!

**Mercedes**: I know enough!

Kurt grabbed Mercedes hands. "Stop" Kurt said. "Talk to me…please."

Mercedes calmed down.

**Mercedes**: …Kurt…Blaine is sleeping with Sebastian.

**Kurt**:…What? How do you know this?

**Mercedes**: I saw them in the kitchen two nights ago.

**Kurt**: Well maybe you didn't see what you think you saw.

**Mercedes**: Oh I know what I saw! And I received a thousand dollars in an envelope the next morning to confirm it. Sebastian is paying for Blaine's tuition, and Blaine is…paying him back for it.

**Kurt**: …You mean he's blackmailing him.

**Mercedes**: Yes, and Sebastian means to do the same thing to you.

**Kurt**: Blaine wouldn't let that happened.

**Mercedes**: Blaine is scared and looking out for himself. You don't know what he's capable of.

**Kurt**: He's a good person.

**Mercedes**: Kurt, you're letting your feelings for this guy cloud your judgment.

**Kurt**: And you're letting your Christian ignorance cloud your humanity.

**Mercedes**: You really think I don't trust Blaine because he's gay?!

**Kurt**: Well are you!?

**Mercedes**: He's a prostitute Kurt! He sleeps with other people for money, and you expect me to trust him.

**Kurt**: He has no choice!

**Mercedes**: But you do! You need to go!

**Kurt**: No! I have to help Blaine!

**Mercedes**: Don't be stupid! I'm not going to let you bury yourself for a guy you barely know!

**Kurt**: I'm not asking your permission.

**Mercedes**: Kurt!

**Kurt**: You're not my fucking mom okay! I'm a grown man! So do me a favor and stop butting in my life!

Mercedes shook her head, a sad smile appearing on her face.

"…That's what you think I'm doing? Butting in your fucking life?" Mercedes said, tossing Kurt's shirt back at him.

"…You know what Kurt. Do whatever you want. Elope with Blaine if you feel like it, cause I'm done."

Mercedes opened the door. Blaine was still standing on the other side.

"Excuse me," said Mercedes quietly.

Mercedes walked passed him and the others in the common room.

Sam followed her to the first floor.

"Mercedes, wait," Sam said, taking her hand.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

Mercedes stopped, shaking her head.

"You were right Sam…It think might have been a mistake to come," she told him.

"My grandfather owns like ten cars. I could borrow one, and we can go home right now," Sam said.

The offer sounded real tempting to Mercedes. She was out of ideas on how to help Kurt, and the fact that she was seeing things that weren't there made her know she needed help.

"Samuel."

Sam's grandfather had just entered the building.

"You have to get fitted for your tux for tonight's benefit," he said, walking up to him.

"Yeah, I forgot," Sam said, taking his eyes off Mercedes.

"Miss Jones," Sean Smythe said, holding out his hand to Mercedes. "I may not see you at the benefit, but I would like to say it was a pleasure meeting you. I'm sure you have big future ahead of you."

"Thank you sir," Mercedes replied, shaking his hand.

"Samuel, we musn't keep the tailor waiting," Sean said, walking out the lobby.

Sam looked back at Mercedes.

Mercedes smiled.

"Go, I'll be fine. Promise," she said.

* * *

It was the night of the music benefit.

Everyone was dressed in black tie for the event.

Every year the warbler's performed at the benefit to raise money for their music program, but this year they would be singing to raise funds to expand McKinley High school that now held twice as many students.

Mr. Schuester and the other New Directions members were stationed at certain points of the Smythe mansion to greet people and encourage them to donate.

Sam stood with his grandfather on the balcony overlooking the school not too far away.

"I'm glad you came, Samuel," Sean said. "I'm glad I was able to see you've grown up to be an honorable man."

"…You're not dying are you," Sam said.

Sean chuckled.

"Afraid not," he replied, tousling Sam's hair.

**Sean**: …I feel like I owe you an explanation on how I treated your father.

**Sam**: You don't have to explain. I get it.

**Sean**: Really.

**Sam**: Yeah…my girlfriend's father is kind of the same way.

**Sean**: Aha! I knew there was a girl. Like I always say behind every great man is a nagging woman.

**Sam**: Ha, I'll tell grandma you said that.

**Sean**:[smiling] So, who is the lucky lady?

**Sam**: nice try. I'm not that dumb.

**Sean**: Hmph. So, her father's been giving you a hard time.

**Sam**: Don't get me wrong, I hate the guy, but he has good reasons for not liking me.

**Sean**: If there's one thing I've learned Samuel, its reasons, even if they're good reasons, don't justify bad decisions.

**Sam**: Grandpa…

**Sean**: You're mother will forever be an anomaly to me Samuel. In my old age I understand I was wrong to have treated her and your father so poorly. But then if I had accepted them, you would have grown up under my roof, probably turning out just like Sebastian…And I thank whatever gods may be that never happened. I was always tough on Sebastian but no matter what you tell children, they only look at your actions, and Sebastian managed to pick up every bad thing I've ever done. It's funny, you seemed to pick up every good decision your father made. How in the world did Dwight Evans, the man I've hated for years, create the only saving grace to my legacy?

**Sam**: Regular beatings.

Sean smiled. "Well, tell him I said 'thank you.'"

"Tell him yourself one day…Maybe Christmas," Sam said.

"Maybe," Sean said, putting his arm around Sam's waist.

The two walked back into the hall.

"So, you're really not going to tell me who this girl is," Sean said.

"Nope," Sam replied.

* * *

Santana placed her hand on Puck's back. He turned around.

Santana was wearing a strapless sequined black dress. Her land black hair was brushed to the side of the folders.

"So…what do you think?" Santana said, turning so Puck could get see the entire outfit.

Puck exhaled, shaking his head.

"I think…you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he replied.

Santana smiled.

She put her arms around Puck's neck.

"You wanna dance?" she asked.

Puck gently removed Santana's arms, holding her hands.

"Santana…What is this? I mean…what do you want from me?"

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Don't make this complicated Noah."

"I didn't make this complicated. You did. You know how I feel about you, and yet you're playing me," Puck told her.

"I'm not playing you," said Santana.

"You sure you're not just interested because I like Tina now?" Puck asked.

Santana narrowed her eyes.

"…You don't actually like her do you? I thought you were just trying to make me jealous," Santana said.

Puck let go of Santana's hands.

"No…She's pretty cool and smart."

"She's a dweeb," Santana said.

"She's sweet." Puck said, getting defensive.

"Noah, Don't we always have fun together?" Santana said, nibbling at Puck's ear.

Puck smiled.

"Yeah, we do," he said.

"Then live in the moment," Santana told him, pulling him out on the dancefloor.

* * *

Mercedes stood in the corner next to the kitchen. She was wearing an indigo evening dress with lace sleeves stopping at her shoulders. Her hair was down in soft curls. Though, rarely wearing make-up Mercedes agreed to let Santana do her eye shadow and mascara.

"How do I look?"

Kurt stood in front of Mercedes, wearing a Dalton uniform.

"You look like a warbler," Mercedes replied.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Kurt said.

Blaine appeared from behind Kurt.

"Mercedes, may I have this dance?" Blaine asked.

Mercedes reluctantly took Blaine's arm, following him to the dance hall where the school orchestra was playing.

Blaine put his hand on Mercedes' waist as she placed her hand on his shoulder. They started waltzing.

**Blaine**: You're a very good dancer.

**Mercedes**: You're not bad yourself.

**Blaine**: …I want you to know that I do care about Kurt.

**Mercedes**: Sure you do. You cared enough about him to deliver him straight to Sebastian.

**Blaine**: …I didn't think he'd try and use it against him…Sebastian has issues, but he does have a heart.

**Mercedes**: like the Grinch

**Blaine**: [smiling] Yeah, kind of like the Grinch. But he does love his cousin…You two share that in common.

**Mercedes**: …You know about me and Sam?

**Blaine**: I saw you two by the lake. Not to mention even when he's talking to someone else, his eyes end up on you.

**Mercedes: **Why didn't you tell Sebastian?

**Blaine**: Because I wanted you to owe me a favor you'd have to repay

**Mercedes**: You're more like Sebastian than you think.

**Blaine**: Sebastian won't ever stop till he gets what he wants. Kurt won't risk getting me in trouble, but you seem like a person who knows how to make hard decisions.

**Mercedes**: Well what do you want me to do?

Blaine pressed his face against Mercedes' cheek. "Set me free," he said. Blaine placed a kiss on Mercedes' hand and left.

Mercedes looked over to see Sam dancing with one of the alumni.

"Hey, Mercedes," Tina said, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Kurt's about to sing with the Warblers," Tina told Mercedes.

Mercedes' mind was elsewhere.

"…I'll be right back," Mercedes said.

Mercedes picked up the side of dress, quickly walking out the front door.

All the guests started to gather in the foyer where the Warblers all stood neatly in four rows.

The captain of the Warblers came forward, clearing his throat.

"I want to thank all of you for coming to support us in helping honor the New Directions of Lima, Ohio. As most of you know, the New Directions originally came together because of tragedy but they remain together because they believe in a common goal of peace and understanding. The Dalton Warblers support that goal. Tonight, we've decided to sing a song we feel appropriate to our message tonight and we hope you enjoy it.

The New Directions watched in the audience as the orchestra started to play the accompaniment to a familiar tune. The Warblers began to sing in unison.

_I was born by the river in a little tent  
And just like that river I've been running ever since  
It's been a long time coming  
But I know… a change is gonna come, oh yes it will_

_It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die_  
_Cause I don't know what's out there beyond the sky_  
_It's been a long, a long time coming_  
_But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will_

Some of the alumni were shocked at the choice of song, seeing as it was regarded as the unofficial song of the Civil Rights movement. The New Directions members stood speechless, a few of them quietly mouthing the lyrics.

_I go to the movie  
And I go down town  
somebody keep telling me don't hang around  
Its been along time coming  
But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will_

Mercedes looked at her necklace. She put it around her neck, hiding it deep in her bosom. She picked up the envelope holding the letter she had just finished writing.

"Forgive me Kurt," she whispered.

Mercedes quickly ran down the stairs, hurrying back to the benefit at the Smythe mansion.

_Then I go to my brother  
And I say brother help me please  
But he winds up knockin' me  
Back down on my knees  
_

Kurt swayed and sung with the other Warblers. It was strange sight for him on the stage. The white alumni watched in interested silence in the audience, while between each guests was a New Directions member… each of them with tears in their eyes, each internally grieving for a special reason they've probably never told anyone else. It was at that moment Kurt understood why Mercedes answered the way she did at that dinner two nights ago; he understood why music was so important to her, and that realization made his eyes also water when he sang the words to the song.

_There were times when I thought I couldn't last for long  
But now I think I'm able to carry on  
It's been a long, a long time coming  
But I know a change gone come, oh yes it will_

Mercedes arrived back at the party just when the Warbler's finished. The audience applauded.

Mercedes went up to Santana.

"Where've you been?" Santana asked, wiping her eyes.

"I need you to do me a favor," Mercedes told her. She whispered the instructions in Santana's ear.

She handed Santana the letter.

Mercedes looked for Sam, finding him at the bottom of the stairs.

When Sam saw her, his patented crooked smile appeared on his face.

"You look…amazing," Sam said.

"Thanks, I'm glad someone noticed," said Mercedes.

Sam's aunt came up to him, asking him to talk with some alumni at the patio.

"Save me a dance okay?" Sam said to Mercedes, before being dragged off.

Mercedes smiled, leaning on the stairs.

...

"I've been watching you."

Sebastian appeared next to Mercedes.

**Sebastian**: You left and then came back. What did you do?

**Mercedes**: Paranoia. It comes with being guilty.

**Sebastian**: Stalling for an answer are you?

**Mercedes**: I decided to do the right thing.

**Sebastian**: You ratted on me. Now I'm going to have to hurt your friend Kurt. I think I'll share his story with the Chicago Times first.

**Mercedes**: You know I would have kept your secret to the grave Sebastian if you had asked me nicely. You shouldn't have threatened Kurt. You can't seem to get to know people without trying to own them.

**Sebastian**: Loyalty grown from friendship can't touch loyalty that stems from fear.

**Mercedes**: And that's where you slipped up. See, my loyalty to my friends will always outweigh my fear. If you had friends, you'd know that.

**Sebastian**: …You're bluffing. You haven't told anyone.

**Mercedes**: Does it look like I'm bluffing?

**Sebastian**: Who. Tell me who you little bitch!

Sebastian's grandfather smacked him across the face. The slap was so hard half the hall heard it.

Sebastian, who had never been hit in face in his entire life, held his jaw that was starting to turn red.

"…Why" he said.

Sebastian saw the opened letter in his grandfather's hand.

"You disgust me," said Sean. "How could you do this?"

"She's lying! Everything she told you!" Sebastian said.

The warblers and the New Directions gathered around to see what was going on.

"It's not a lie. I can see it's the truth in your eyes!" Sebastian's grandfather said.

"She's protecting Kurt Hummel. He's the homosexual!"

"You expect me to believe anything you have to say?!" Sean said. "You would tell any lie to save yourself!"

Sebastian couldn't believe it. Mercedes had managed to shatter his credibility in one swift move.

"Grandfather…please," Sebastian said.

"You've shamed your family and this school. I want out of my sight. I'll deal with you later."

Sam's grandfather turned to Blaine.

"And as for you. I know your father. I'd expect better. Effective immediately, you Blaine Anderson are expelled from Dalton Academy."

"No!" Kurt said, as Mercedes held him back.

"Don't Kurt," Mercedes whispered to him.

Blaine closed his eyes, breathing out slowly.

"Pack your things. I want you out of the dormitory tonight," Sean said to him.

"…Yes sir," Blaine said solemnly, keeping his head down.

Sean left the crowd, going upstairs after Sebastian.

"What did you do, Mercedes!?" Kurt said.

"Shhh. Kurt, I had to. You don't understand. I had to," Mercedes said.

"Blaine!" Kurt said.

Blaine shook his head, motioning for Kurt not to come towards him.

Kurt turned back to Mercedes.

"I'll never forgive you," Kurt said, walking away from her.

As the crowd murmured about how Sean Smythe had just shamed his grandson, Mercedes and Blaine were the only ones left standing quietly in the crowd.

Blaine looked up at Mercedes. Two tears rolled down his eyes as he silently mouthed the words "thank you."

A small smile of relief came on Blaine's face as he walked away into the crowd.

Mercedes shook her head. She had sacrificed Blaine and Sebastian to save Kurt, who now hated her.

No matter how much she loved Kurt, she knew she would wonder the rest of her life if she made the right decision.

Sam moved through the crowd to get back to Mercedes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Will you take me home?" Mercedes asked, her eyes started to water.

Sam pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

Sean started to come back downstairs when he saw Sam with Mercedes. His suspicions about who his grandson was dating had been correct.

"The circle of life," he said to himself.

Sam's grandfather straightened himself before walking down the stairs with a serious face.

"Samuel" Sean called.

Sam and Mercedes pulled apart but still holding hands.

Sean Smythe stood in front of the two young lovebirds.

"Grandpa-" Sam began.

"Take care of my grandson for me, Miss Jones," Sean interjected.

"Uh… yes sir," Mercedes said.

Sean tossed Sam his car keys.

"I expect you to return my Astin Martin to me Sam, with a full tank of gas… and the rest of your family."

Sam smiled softly.

"Sure thing grandpa," Sam said.

The crowd parted for Sam and Mercedes as they walked out of the house.

* * *

Sam drove down the highway as Mercedes stuck her hand out of the car window, letting the wind blow through her fingers.

She was unusually quiet. The look on Kurt's face when he said he'd never forgive her was etched in her memory.

Sam reached over to Mercedes, taking her hand in his.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens," Sam sang.

Mercedes narrowed her eyes at Sam.

"What are you singing Sam?" she said.

"_Bright copper kettles and worn woolen mittens_," he continued.

Mercedes shook her head.

Sam nudged her.

"Sing," he said.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. Though her voice was cracked she started to mutter the tune along with Sam.

"_Brown paper packages tied up with strings. These are a few of my favorite things_," they both sang.

Mercedes snorted.

"_When the dog bites_," Sam sang

"_When the bee stings_," Mercedes echoed.

"…_When I'm feeling sad_," they both crooned. Mercedes sniffled. Sam pulled her into a one-armed hug

"_I simply remember my favorite things…and then I don't feel soooo bad._" Sam sang softly as Mercedes started to fall asleep in his lap.

When Mercedes and Sam made it back to Lima, the sun was just starting to rise up into the sky.

They drove past Mercedes neighborhood until they were deep in Lima Heights.

Sam waited in the car as Mercedes climbed up the tall apartment building to Ms. Pillsbury's flat.

She knocked on the door.

Ms. Pillsbury, still dressed in her nightie, answered the door.

"Mercedes?"

"I'm sorry to bother you so early Ms. Pillsbury," began Mercedes.

Ms. Pillsbury, looked Mercedes up and down, noticing she was still dressed in her evening gown from last night.

"Come in," Ms. Pillsbury said, letting Mercedes in.

…

Ms. Pillsbury poured a third cup of tea for she and Mercedes.

"Well…the good news is, I don't think you're going crazy," Ms. Pillsbury stated.

Mercedes let out a sigh of relief. "Praise Jesus," she said.

"However!" Ms. Pillsbury continued. "It's a serious situation."

**Ms. Pillsbury**: I don't think David Karofksy is actually haunting you from prison. It seems to me your conscience has manifested itself in the likeness of David and is trying to send you a message.

**Mercedes**: So, you're saying…I'm haunting myself? …That sounds like I'm crazy Ms. Pillsbury.

**Ms. Pillsbury**: Have you ever read the Tell-tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe?

**Mercedes**: Yeah, I read it to Artie.

**Ms. Pillsbury**: Remember when the man in the book swore he could hear the beating of the dead man's heart?

**Mercedes**: …Yeah? He was a murderor though. He was guilty.

**Ms. Pillsbury**: …Are you feeling guilty?

**Mercedes**: …I don't know. I don't see why I should. He kidnapped me. I should be happy he's in jail where he can't hurt me. I shouldn't feel guilty about that.

**Ms. Pillsbury**: You spent over twelve hours with him alone in a cabin. Are you sure a sympathetic relationship didn't form between you too?

**Mercedes**: Of course not! I hate him.

**Ms. Pillsbury**: But-

**Mercedes**: But nothing. He kidnapped me. He held me in a freezing shack while he had a gun pointed in my face. I was so scared to death all I could look at were his shaking hands holding that damn gun.

**Ms. Pillsbury**: His hands.

**Mercedes**: Yeah his hands! I never took my eyes off them!

Mercedes felt a sudden shiver go up her spine. She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was back in the cabin. Karofsky sat in front of her holding the gun in his cold pale hands.

"Mercedes?"

Mercedes opened her eyes. She was still in Ms. Pillsbury's apartment.

"What did you see?" Ms. Pillsbury.

"I saw…nothing." Mercedes said, a worried look on her face.

Ms. Pillsbury looked at Mercedes.

"Well, I can't do much more to help you. I can tell you that something about that night in the cabin is bothering you, something that won't let you sleep at night. I know it scares you, but the next time you see David come to you, ask him what he wants. Find out what it is, or he'll never leave you alone."

"Thanks Ms. Pillsbury," Mercedes said, getting up from her seat.

"And tell Sam to come in next time," Ms. Pillsbury added, letting Mercedes out.

* * *

After Sam had dropped Mercedes off, she took a long shower.

The house was uncomfortably quiet.

Mercedes crawled into her bed. She pulled the covers over her head and closed her eyes.

She was back in the cabin.

Karofsky stood next to her. There was no gun, no chair. He was just standing, with his hands in his pockets.

"…What do you want?" Mercedes asked.

"Mercy…" David said, "Just look at my hands."

Cautiously, Mercedes took a step towards Karofsky as he slowly pulled his hands out of his jacket.

Mercedes looked at his pale hands. She slowly touched them. They were cold. She turned them over. His palms had a few blisters, no doubt from football.

When Mercedes was done, she pulled her hands away from his, not sure what was going to happen next.

To her surprise, a tiny half-smile appeared on David's face.

Mercedes woke up.

"So much for that," she said.

Mercedes got out of bed and went to the kitchen.

She started making herself some breakfast.

She went to the refrigerator to get herself some orange juice, only to keep the door held open.

What stopped her was her right hand holding the fridge door.

It had never bothered her before, but there was a distinct scar on her left hand – the hand she used to open the door in the fire to let everyone out. She had the hand covered in her dress material when she jiggled the handle but the hot glass still managed to burn the end of her hand and the top of her wrist.

Mercedes started to think.

Sam's hands. They had a few burn welts on his thumb and the back of his hand.

Noah's hands. He busted the glass on the door and helped everyone escape. He also hand some lacerations on his wrist and hands. He also had two welts on his neck.

But Kurt was the worst. The heat of the door handle, burnt the palm of his left hand so badly, you couldn't even tell if he had life lines anymore. And his arms had small cuts going all the way to his elbow.

Mercedes, Sam, Noah, Kurt, Mike, all the SCRO members, everyone who was in that building during the fire had some form of second degree burns. Even Shane, who was one of the first students out the school, had his hands wrapped up and some tiny scabs above his eyebrow.

And yet Karofsky had nothing…not even one mark on his pale hands.

"…Oh God." Mercedes breathed.

**To be continued…**


	14. Chapter 14

**New Directions: Lima, Ohio 1965 part 14**

**[Thanks for the awesome reviews guys. This is the chapter before the big Thanksgiving dinner at Mercedes' house. Hope you enjoy :-)]**

Quinn adjusted her ponytail in the mirror.

When she checked the time, she grabbed her school bag to head downstairs.

"Mom! I'm running late so I think I'll just eat something at school….Mom?"

When Quinn entered the dining room, she saw her mother crying over pieces of paper.

"Mom…what is it," Quinn said, looking over her mom's shoulder.

Mrs. Fabray quickly crumbled up the pieces of paper and threw them in the trash.

"I can't let you leave without breakfast honey. Let me make some pancakes," she said through sniffles, going to the kitchen.

Quinn cautiously picked the paper out of the trash. She looked over it.

Realizing what they were, Quinn slowly followed her mom to the kitchen.

"Mom…these are divorce papers," Quinn began.

Mrs. Fabray ignored her daughter, turning on the stove.

"Mom, did you hear me?" Quinn said.

"I KNOW WHAT THEY ARE!" Mrs. Fabray snapped. "And I'm not signing them!"

Quinn's lip started to quiver.

"Mom,"

Mrs. Fabray started to cry again.

"We are his family…He can't just throw us away!" Mrs. Fabray said.

Quinn pulled her mom into a hug.

"It's alright mom," Quinn said. "…We'll be okay."

* * *

Mercedes was glad when the bell rang, dismissing her to her second period.

It had been a long weekend at Dalton and she was happy to be in the halls of McKinley again.

She was especially excited to see what Artie had been getting himself into the past four days.

Mercedes walked down the hall till she made it to the music room. Nat King Cole was playing out of the record player from the inside. Mercedes opened the door.

"I know you think that I've been gone so long that I'll cut you some slack on your school work Arthur Abr- Oh I'm sorry I thought you were…"

Mercedes stopped when she noticed a boy standing at the piano.

But when Artie turned his head, she realized it was him.

"…Artie?" Mercedes said, walking up to him.

"Surprise," Artie said, as Mercedes remained silent.

"…How are you-" Mercedes began to ask, looking at Artie's legs.

"My braces are under my trousers. I still have some nerves in my upper leg muscle, I just never used them, because I knew I still wouldn't be able to walk," Artie explained.

Mercedes eyes moved up to Artie's face.

She touched his shoulder.

"Artie… you're…you're taller than me," Mercedes breathed, making Artie chuckle.

"I'm miraculously standing, and that's what's blowing your mind, that I'm taller than you?" Artie said making Mercedes' laugh.

"Artie!" Mercedes said beaming from ear to ear. "You've grown up."

"…Glad you noticed," Artie said, biting his bottom lip. He touched the side of Mercedes' face.

"Now," Artie said. "I promised you a dance."

Mercedes laughed.

"You can't walk, but you can dance," she said, as Artie placed one hand around Mercedes' waste.

Mercedes's took Artie's other hand in hers, keeping her left hand on his shoulder.

The two swayed to the music, making sure to keep Artie in the same place so he wouldn't fall.

Mercedes couldn't wipe the big smile off her face.

Artie's eyes stared confidently on Mercedes brown eyes.

"…So how do you like your surprise," Artie whispered.

"I think it can't be topped," Mercedes told him.

Mercedes couldn't help but hum along to the melody, making Artie smile at her.

The song ended.

The two stopped moving.

"Thank you Artie," Mercedes said.

When Mercedes eyes returned to Artie's face, he had stopped smiling.

His eyes were focused on her lips.

Artie moved his hand to Mercedes' cheek, letting his finger move to her chin.

Artie kissed Mercedes on the lips.

Mercedes nudged Artie, moving her face.

"Artie!" Mercedes said moving away.

She touched her lips.

"What're you doing?" Mercedes said, confused at what had just happened.

Artie seemed more confused and upset that Mercedes was.

"But you…" Artie started. "…I thought that you loved me."

Mercedes' heart wrenched.

"…I care about you very much, but I'm in love with Sam. I always have been…I-I thought you knew that," Mercedes said.

Artie's eyes started to go red.

"Artie," Mercedes said, coming towards him.

"You…led me on," Artie said.

Mercedes shook her head frantically.

"No, I-I didn't. You're my friend."

"Get out," Artie said, turning his eyes away from Mercedes.

Mercedes couldn't believe what was happening.

"Artie, I'm sorry-"

"I said…get out," Artie said more harshly.

Mercedes quickly walked out of the music room.

Artie slowly helped himself back into his wheelchair.

* * *

"Hey, Kurt. Whatcha readin?" Puck asked, taking a seat next to Kurt in the cafeteria.

Kurt quickly hid his letter from Blaine under the table.

"Nothing," Kurt said, starting to eat his soup again.

Finn, Mike, and Sam showed up at the table, taking seats next to him.

"I've been meaning to ask you Kurt…you and Brittany. You gotta home run yet?" Puck asked.

"A Home Run?" Kurt repeated.

"It's Brittany. She's not that hard to knock out," Finn said, gulping down his milk.

"Knock out…right," Kurt said.

"You're not a virgin are you," Puck asked, noticing Kurt's confusion.

"Me?! Pshhh No," Kurt said, shaking his head.

"It's okay if you are," Puck said.

"…really?" said Kurt, who didn't expect to hear this.

"Why sure. Mike here was one till Brittany took care of that sophomore year," said Puck.

"You're an ass, Noah," Mike said.

Finn and Puck laughed.

"She blew your mind didn't she big boy," Puck said, as Finn hit an embarrassed Mike.

"And what about Sam?" Kurt asked, looking at a quiet Sam.

"Oh man, you are new Hummel. Sam's conquests are legend," Puck said.

Sam kicked Puck under the table.

"He doesn't like to talk about it," Puck whispered.

Puck put his arm around Kurt's shoulders.

"We're buds, so if you need tips I'm here for you. You don't want Brittany moving on to some other jock," he told Kurt.

"Gee thanks," Kurt said, attempting to sound enthused rather than terrified.

"Yeah, Kurt. I'll help you too," Sam chimed in, a devious smirk on his face.

Kurt knew very well that Sam only wanted to help Kurt to make sure he wasn't messing around with Mercedes.

"I'm good, really. Me and Brittany are taking it slow," Kurt said.

"…That's not queer at all," Puck said, making the other guys laugh.

"Leave him alone," Mike said. "Sex can lead to horrible things like VD. Puck knows all about that, don't you."

Sam and Finn snorted out their milk, laughing at Puck's sad face.

"Ugh, that was the worst week of my life. Let me tell you Kurt. Stay away from girls with odd placed piercings," Puck said, scaring Kurt.

The boys quickly changed the conversation when the girls showed up at the table.

Santana, Mercedes, and Quinn took seats next to the boys.

Kurt looked at Mercedes, rolled his eyes, and then got up with his tray.

"What's up with him?" Puck asked, watching Kurt walk away.

"Your syphilis story scared him," Finn said.

"I can't believe you guys are still talking about that," Quinn said shaking her head.

"You okay?" Sam asked, placing his arm around Mercedes.

"Sure," Mercedes said, attempting to smile. "Have you heard from Sebastian?"

"My mom told me my uncle shipped him off to a boarding school in England," Sam said scoffing. "Which is more like a vacation then a punishment."

Mercedes was just glad he was far away from Kurt, who still seemed determined not to talk to her.

But Kurt was the least of her problems it seemed.

* * *

An hour into rehearsal, the New Directions members were already snapping at each other.

The atmosphere was stressed, because it was the day they were picking the numbers they were going to perform with the Vocal Adrenaline dancers on _Dance Dance Cleveland_.

"I have to perform Santa Baby," Santana said.

"It's a Christmas Special with families watching. No one wants to see you molesting Santa Clause on their television," Rachel said.

"I do," said Puck, while the other boys nodded.

"Okay, let's vote to enter Santana's Santa Baby to the list," Mr. Schuester said.

Everyone except Rachel and Finn raised their hands.

"Okay guys, we have to move this along faster." Mr. Schuester said. "We've been here for over an hour and all we have is Rachel and Finn singing _ Baby it's cold outside; _We have the entire group doing _Twelve days of Christmas; _We have Noah doing _The Christmas song; _and Santana doing _Santa Baby_,"

"I could sing _White Christmas_," Mercedes said.

Most of the group oohhed.

"That'd be lovely Mercedes," Mr. Schuester said, writing it down.

"I wanted to do that song. Mercedes has already had a solo recently," Rachel said.

Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"Can I sing _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_," Tina interjected.

The group awed.

"That would be a nice one Tina," Mr. Schuester said, writing it down.

"We still need another group number," Finn said.

"What about Deck the Halls?" said Kurt.

"That's good, but it doesn't really seem like a closing number. It should be more heartwarming," Mercedes said.

"Well, what's the point in my talking, if you're going to shoot down my suggestions your highness," Kurt said to Mercedes.

Sam threw a pen at the back of Kurt's head.

"Ouch!"

"Woops, must've slipped," Sam said, with an obnoxious smile on his face.

"What about O Come all Ye Faithful?" Mike said.

"Yes! We could have two of you sing the lead parts in front of the group," Mr. Schuester said.

"I volunteer!" Rachel said, shooting up her hand.

"Any of you boys wants to sing with Rachel?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"I'll do it," Finn said confidently.

"That's sweet of you Finn…but O Come all Ye Faithful is a deceptively difficult piece. I'm not sure you could keep up with me," Rachel began.

Everyone side-eyed Rachel.

"…Well who do you have in mind?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"Jesse St. James," Rachel said.

Santana scoffed.

"You want to sing with THE Jesse St. James of Vocal Adrenaline?" Santana said.

"Why not? I'm sure he'd do it," Rachel said.

"I have to see this," Santana said, laughing.

"Alright guys. We have officially thirty days to have ALL these numbers down packed. And we'll be singing alongside Vocal Adrenaline on TELEVISION where the entire Midwest will be watching. So, I can't stress how important this is," Mr. Schuester said.

"Don't worry. We won't let you down Mr. Schue," said Kurt.

* * *

Sam pulled up to the front of Mercedes' house in the Astin Martin.

"When are you going to give this car back Sam?" Mercedes asked.

Sam scoffed.

"Never," he said turning off the engine. "I'll walk you inside," Sam said.

Mercedes laughed, taking of her seatbelt.

"Sam, you know my parents aren't here," Mercedes said.

"That's the best part," Sam said, leaning over on Mercedes' side of the car.

His partly-opened mouth stopped three millimeters from Mercedes' lips as if he was daring his girlfriend to be naughty.

Mercedes slowly opened her mouth, giving Sam permission to partake of her's.

Sam smirked before pulling Mercedes in for the kiss.

They had kissed many times before, and yet every time, Mercedes felt the swoosh in her stomach when Sam's mouth connected with hers.

Sam's hand moved slowly down to Mercedes' skirt that rode up her thighs.

The car was filled with the noise of smacking lips.

Mercedes became aware of her surroundings when she felt Sam's hand in a place where it shouldn't be.

"Sam!"

"Wha wha what," Sam said.

"This is wrong. We're on the side of the street for goodness sake," Mercedes said, still trying to catch her breath.

"Then we can go inside," Sam said, kissing Mercedes' neck.

"You know I can't have boys in the house," Mercedes told him.

"…Alright, alright," Sam said, as Mercedes fixed her skirt. Mercedes opened the car door.

"Wait wait," Sam said, pulling her back in.

"What?" Mercedes said, as Sam bit his bottom lip and smiled.

"…Your hair," Sam said, touching the strands of his girlfriend's ponytail that were oddly sticking out.

"Oh my gosh," Mercedes said, totally embarrassed.

She slapped Sam's hands away and fixed her hair herself, as Sam affectionately kissed her shoulder.

"Okay how does it look?" Mercedes asked.

Sam nodded, trying not to laugh.

Mercedes leaned in, kissing Sam one more time.

Mercedes got out of the car with her school bag.

She took a few steps then quickly turned around, making Sam jump.

"Were you staring at my butt Sam Evans?" she asked accusingly.

"No," Sam said as he nodded his head 'yes.'

"No shame Sam. None," Mercedes said turning around. Mercedes swished her butt side-side as she scuttled to the front door.

Sam reclined in his car seat so he could get the full view of his girlfriend's backside as she went into her house.

Sam looked down at his crotch.

"Baseball, baseball, baseball," Sam repeated as he started the engine.

* * *

Mercedes sat by the phone in the kitchen.

Mrs. Jones, who was also in the kitchen preparing for dinner, watched Mercedes pick up the phone for a third time, only to hang it up.

"Mercy, how many times are you gonna do that?" Mrs. Jones asked.

"Sorry mom," Mercedes said, looking at the phone.

"Just call him," Mrs. Jones said.

"He's still mad at me," Mercedes told her mom.

"It can't be too serious. You and Kurt have been through worse," Mrs. Jones said.

"I'm not so sure about that," Mercedes moving the phone away from her so she wouldn't touch it anymore.

**Mrs. Jones**: Is this about Sam?

**Mercedes**: No. Why would it be about Sam?

**Mrs. Jones**: Because, you two are spending all this time together now, and Kurt may be feeling left out.

**Mercedes**: Kurt didn't get left out. He started dating Brittany before me and Sam even started going steady.

**Mrs. Jones**: Maybe he did it to make you jealous.

**Mercedes**: I promise you, that's not it.

**Mrs. Jones**: You never know. I mean you've been sweet on Kurt since you were sixteen, and now with Sam around, he's not getting all the attention you used to give him.

**Mercedes**: I'm not sweet on Kurt.

**Mrs. Jones**: Child please. You still get googly-eyed over him, like he can do no wrong. Why do you think Sam doesn't like him?

**Mercedes**: I don't know, because…

**Mrs. Jones**: Because you're sweet on him. Remember when you started dating Shane? He didn't like Kurt either. That's why he introduced you to Santana so you'd have a girlfriend to hang out with instead of another cute boy.

**Mercedes**: I didn't know that.

**Mrs. Jones**: Well, it was obvious from my point-of-view.

**Mercedes**: [scoffing] I really need to talk to Kurt about something important.

**Mrs. Jones**: What is it?

**Mercedes**: …I wanted to know if Kurt can remember anything about the fire. My memory of it comes and goes.

**Mrs. Jones**: I don't think you need to remember anymore. The person responsible is locked away.

**Mercedes**: I think he's innocent.

**Mrs. Jones**: What makes you say that?

Mercedes looked at her hands.

"No reason," Mercedes said. Mercedes knew if she told her mom, she may go to the police, and the last time police were involved she was kidnapped. And because there was a high risk that the actual arsonist was still out there, she didn't want to take that chance.

"Well…the truth always comes to light one way or another," Mrs. Jones said.

"Yeah…it does doesn't it," Mercedes said to herself.

* * *

It was the next day at school. Mercedes walked cautiously to second period, constantly touching her hair to see if it was okay. She was hoping Artie had some time to cool off, and everything could go back to the way it was. She had already lost a friend in Kurt and didn't want any more people upset with her.

Mercedes knocked on the music room door first.

"Come in," Artie said, casually.

"Artie, I just wanted-"

A McKinley student in a blue dress sat in Mercedes' seat next to Artie.

"Oh, hello Mercedes," Artie said lightly.

"Artie…who is this? I'm sorry, who are you?" Mercedes asked.

"I'm Sarah," the girl said.

"She's Sarah," Artie repeated smugly.

"Hi," Mercedes said, still confused.

She turned her eyes back to Artie.

"…Artie, can I talk to you outside?" Mercedes asked.

"I'll be sec," Artie told the girl, following Mercedes into the hall.

Mercedes waited till a group of kids passed before she spoke.

"Artie, what's going on?" Mercedes asked.

"Sarah is now my tutor. Your services are no longer needed." Artie stated blatantly.

Mercedes prevented herself from asking Artie why he was behaving like this, but she already knew. Mercedes shook her head.

"I thought we were making so much progress Artie," Mercedes said.

"Progress? I don't actually need a tutor. All I need is a dopey girl to deliver me my classwork. And you, unfortunately, took on the extra duty of being a tease," Artie said.

"Don't call me a tease Artie. I helped you," Mercedes told him.

"You used me," Artie said. "You're a wallflower who got tired of being ignored, so you used me to get all the attention you wanted."

"You're a sick person you know that?" Mercedes said. "I never asked you to nominate me for Homecoming Queen or any of that. I was nothing but nice to you."

"You're full of shit," Artie said harshly. "No one's buying the nice-girl act anymore, so you can just save it for the next poor guy you use."

"I know I hurt you…but don't do this okay. You're still a good person. Another girl will like you-"

"Can you wrap this up? I have some classwork I have to go over," said Artie, cutting Mercedes off.

Mercedes shook her head.

"How immature can you be?" she said. "I thought we were friends."

"Friends?" said Artie with a smile. "Sweetheart, you were more like a paid whore. A cheap one at that; you only got two-fifty an hour. Sarah's getting three."

The words hit Mercedes like a slap in the face. She could feel the tears swelling up in her eyes.

"I hope you're happy with yourself." Mercedes said.

She turned her back on Artie and walked down the hall, holding her books to her chest.

* * *

When the second period bell rang Sam walked down the hall with Mike.

"Sam!"

Sam and Mike turned around.

"You have to come quick! Something's wrong with Mercedes!" Tina said.

"Where is she? What happened?" Sam said.

"She's in the girl's bathroom! She won't stop crying I don't know what's wrong with her!" Tina said.

Sam and Mike followed Tina to the girls' lavatory. Sam walked in. The lavatory was empty except for Mercedes who was trying to wash her tears away in the sink.

It was a disturbing sight. Mercedes was always a strong put-together girl. Even during the fire, she had enough in her to keep it together to help save everyone else, and yet here she was crying uncontrollably. She had cried this hard once before, but Sam's parents were the only ones to witness it. Something bad had to have happened. Sam knew it.

Sam rushed up to her.

"MJ! What happened? Are you hurt?" Sam asked.

Mercedes tried to talk through her tears, but she couldn't manage it, only making Sam panic worse.

"Mercedes, what's wrong?!" Sam said.

Mercedes shook her head to express that she was fine, but she wasn't convincing anyone with her eyes red from crying so hard.

"Talk to me! Baby, you're scaring me!" Sam said, shaking her.

Mercedes coughed out some more tears, overwhelmed by Sam's forcefulness.

She attempted to speak to explain her condition without freaking out Sam more.

"H-h-h-e," Mercedes stuttered out.

"He who?!" Sam said.

"A-artie," Mercedes said, as her eyes started to leak tears again.

"Is he dead?!" Sam asked.

"Noooo," Mercedes said crying with her eyes closed.

Sam let out a relieved laugh. He pulled Mercedes into his arms.

"Shhhh, it's okay, you can tell me. What happened with Artie? I promise I won't get mad."

…

Artie wheeled himself to the water fountain.

He couldn't erase the look on Mercedes' face when he said what he said to her earlier, but he wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt him. He thought her humiliation would make him feel better, but so far, it did nothing. He had half-expected Mercedes to slap him, but he managed to escape bruise-free…well from Mercedes that is.

Before Artie's lips could even reach the water, Artie was picked up from his chair and rammed into a locker. Artie felt as if he had been hit by a train. Sam held up Artie by his suspenders.

"WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU COME OFF CALLING MY GIRLFRIEND A WHORE?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR DAMN MIND?!"

Before Artie could answer, Sam punched his Artie in his jaw, while still holding him up with his left hand against the lockers.

"ANSWER ME YOU LITTLE FUCK!"

A crowd of students watched in disbelief.

Sam hit Artie again. Artie, who had never been hit in his life, could not describe the pain surging through him. Though he had resented Sam for years, he never stopped to consider how frightfully strong he actually was or how big his fists were.

"I WANNA KNOW WHAT KINDA BALLS YOU GOT THINKING YOU CAN TALK TO MY GIRLFRIEND LIKE THAT!"

Artie trembled in Sam's arm, having never been so scared in his life.

"I-I-I'm"

"YOU'RE WHAT!" Sam barked.

"I-I'm sorry!"

"YEAH I BET YOU ARE FUCKING SORRY. I BET YOUR SMART ASS CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING CLEVER TO SAY NOW HUH!"

Mike and Tina showed up behind Sam. They were trying to keep up with him when he left the girls bathroom in a heat of fury.

"YOU BETTER STAY AWAY FROM MJ IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU! AND IF I HEAR THAT ANY MORE SHIT HAS LEFT YOUR MOUTH ABOUT MY GIRLFRIEND IMMA KNOCK YOU OUT SO HARD YOU WON'T WAKE UP IN TIME FOR YOUR GRADUATION!" Sam told a trembling Artie.

"Hey Sylvester's coming! Put him down man," Mike said.

Sam dropped Artie onto the hard hallway floor.

Mike and Tina pulled Sam away into the crowd.

Everyone still kept their eyes on Artie, who lay helpless on the ground.

Besides the excruciating pain shooting up his head and his back, the amount of shame and humiliation that engulfed Artie was enough to keep him in the floor for an eternity.

Sylvester arrived just in time to see Artie cough out some blood on the ground.

"Who's responsible for this?" said Ms. Sylvester. The crowd remained silent.

* * *

Kurt turned off his car.

He had just made it to the outskirts of Lima, behind an empty diner.

Blaine came out of the diner, and climbed into the passenger seat of Kurt's car.

"Hi," Kurt said, looking at Blaine. "You look good."

Blaine smiled. "What did you expect? To see me in rags?"

The two laughed.

"I'm fine, Kurt," Blaine said.

"I got your letter," Kurt said.

Blaine nodded.

"After my dad kicked me out, I got a one-room apartment in Dayton above a music store. The high school there is nice," Blaine said.

"Do you need money?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shook his head.

"I have a job already. I'm giving piano lessons to ten-year olds if you can believe it," Blaine said chuckling.

"You have a job so soon?" Kurt said amazed.

Blaine nodded.

"In the back of my head I kind of knew that one day I'd get caught. So I had already had a plan in motion on what'd I'd do."

"I still can't believe this happened to you," Kurt said.

"I'm okay, really. All my grades transferred over to the new school. I still may be able to get into a decent college," Blaine said.

"This is my fault," said Kurt.

"No…It's mine. What I was doing with Sebastian was wrong. I'm just happy I can start over," Blaine said, holding Kurt's hand.

"How's the New Directions?" Blaine asked.

"Same old. We have the Christmas special with Vocal Adrenaline coming up," Kurt told him.

"Sounds amazing. I wish I could go," Blaine said.

Kurt scoffed.

"You'd should. You could out sing me on your worst day," Kurt said.

"Don't sell yourself so short," Blaine said. "You're magic."

Kurt leaned into Blaine, kissing him tenderly on the lips.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Kurt whispered.

Blaine smiled, pulling away.

"You'd better go," Blaine said.

"I'll be waiting for your letters," Kurt said.

The two kissed one more time, before Blaine got out of the car.

* * *

Mercedes, Tina, Mike, Puck, Santana, Rachel, Finn, and Quinn stood outside the Principal's office during lunch period.

Sam, Mr. Schuester, the football coach were in the office with Sylvester and Principal Figgins.

"Sooner or later that temper of Sam's would land him in Figgins' office," Quinn said.

"There's no way he's not getting suspended," Puck said, pacing up and down.

"Suspended? He's expelled," Mike said.

"I knew I shouldn't have told him," Mercedes said. "This is all my fault."

"Yeah, I think we've established that," Rachel said.

"Why are you even here Rachel?" Mercedes asked.

"For your information, Helen of Troy, I was Sam's friend long before you came along," Rachel said.

"…You have ten seconds to get the hell out of my face," Mercedes said.

"Ten? I'm giving this munchkin three," Santana said, coming towards Rachel.

Just then the door opened.

Sam came out first and then coach and Mr. Schuester followed.

"How bad is it?" Mike asked.

Mr. Schuester shook his head.

"It's not good. Sam has a week suspension on his permanent record…And Artie Abram's parents a petitioning Sam be expelled."

Everyone groaned.

"Sam, go clean out your locker," Mr. Schuester said.

Sam walked away with his coach to go get his stuff from his locker.

"Shit!" Puck said.

"What're we going to do?" Rachel asked Mr. Schuester.

"There's nothing we can do at this point," Mr. Schuester said. "Sam and Artie's parents have a meeting with the principal tomorrow to discuss Sam's possible expulsion."

As the group followed Mr. Schuester to the choir room, Mercedes leaned on the office wall. She closed her eyes hoping the answer to her problem would appear in her head, but when she opened her eyes, she was only met with the hopelessness of Sam's predicament.

* * *

Kurt parked his car in the driveway of the house.

He entered his home from the kitchen door, expected no one to be home. He was surprised to see his father sitting in the kitchen table, finishing off the last of the milk from the fridge.

"Dad! You're home," Kurt said, surprised to see his father back early from D.C.

Burt walked up to his son and hugged him.

"Surprised to see me?" Burt Hummel said, kissing his son on the cheek.

"Yeah, I didn't think I'd see you till Thanksgiving," Kurt said, taking a seat at the table, as his dad, went back to the fridge.

"…About that," Burt began.

Kurt knew whatever he was going to say couldn't be good.

"Because the congressional meeting let out so early…I may have to go back during thanksgiving," Burt said.

Kurt couldn't hide the disappointment on his face.

"Dad no! You promised!" Kurt exclaimed.

"I know I know. But it's my first term as congressman, and I don't want to look like I'm slacking off," Burt said.

Kurt kept the pout on his face, unwilling to hear his dad's excuses.

"Alright alright. I'm not making any promises here, but maybe I can make it back by Thursday afternoon so we can cut the turkey together," Burt told his son.

Kurt beamed.

"I'm going to make all your favorites! Stuffing, cornbread," Kurt said excitedly.

"Hold on there," Burt said interrupting him. "I don't want another heart attack."

"Don't worry Dad. Everything will be low fat," Kurt said.

Burt pouted.

"Forget it. I'd rather have the heart attack."

"Dad, don't joke," Kurt said.

Burt looked at his watch.

"It's only three. School just ended. Aren't you home a bit early?" Burt said, checking his watch.

"Oh yeah… Mr. Schuester canceled rehearsals for the day, so I didn't have to stay afterschool," Kurt fibbed to his father.

"That's a bit odd, seeing as you all got that big Christmas TV special you're supposed to be doing. I thought he'd be cracking the whip on you kids," Burt said.

"Yeah. So! Did you see the president?" Kurt asked, changing the subject.

"Not this time. But I did bump into Bobby Kennedy," Burt said, going back to the fridge to find himself a snack.

"Ooh! What was he-"

"Navy blue silk tie, with a grey suit and black shoes," Burt replied before Kurt could even finish his sentences.

"I love the Kennedys' style," Kurt said, leaning his chin on his hand.

Burt shook his head. "I will never understand your fascination with menswear… or ladies wear for that matter," he said.

* * *

Quinn made it home by six after cheer and show choir practice.

She wasn't in a hurry to arrive because she knew that her dad had been by earlier to get the rest of his things and that she'd have to deal with whatever state her mom was in.

Quinn put her key in the front door.

"Mom I'm home!"

The house was perfectly clean as usual.

She walked through the living room.

No one was there.

Quinn walked through the dining room to the kitchen where her mom was no doubt taking her anxiety out on whatever she was preparing for dinner.

"Mom?"

On the kitchen counter there was some fresh produce lined up next to each other. She must've been shopping, Quinn thought.

On the breakfast table, there was still some smoking cigarettes resting in the crystal ashtray.

Next to the ashtray was an open wedding album.

Quinn touched the album. On top of her parent's wedding picture some ash had been flicked on her dad's face.

Quinn closed the book.

It was too quiet.

"Mom! Are you home?" Quinn called.

She walked up the stairs.

Her parent's bedroom was closed but unlocked.

She pushed the door open slowly.

Her mom lay flat on the bed unconscious.

Mrs. Fabray's lifeless arm dangled over the bed next to a pile of pills spilled on the carpet.

Quinn let out an ear-splitting scream.

* * *

Artie looked at himself in the bathroom mirror.

After washing off the scabbed-over blood on his cheek, Artie assessed the true damage of his beating.

The left side of his face, from the bottom of his eye to under his chin was purple and slightly swollen. Now that Artie had calmed down, he was a bit grateful that Sam hadn't hit him in his glasses, because he surely would have blinded him. Right at the opening of Artie's mouth was a cut, which the doctor had to close up with three stiches. Artie's bottom molar was loose, so his mom set up an appointment for him to see the dentist tomorrow.

His parents were still downstairs discussing the option of homeschool and how public school was too dangerous for him. Mr. Abrams kept telling Artie on the way home from the ER how brave Artie was for standing up to "that Evans brute." This thought made Artie feel even worse about himself.

For so long, he had theorized what a zero Sam Evans was; years he had convinced himself that without those looks only existed a vapid moron who cared more about popularity than anything else. But now Artie understood, that not only was Sam not the bad guy, but that he himself was less than zero. He was the jerk, and he was the bully who humiliated the only friend he had.

Artie looked back at his reflection, licking the cut on his mouth.

"Be a man Artie," he said to himself.

* * *

Mercedes and Mrs. Jones washed the dishes while Mr. Jones watched the game in the living room.

"You were quiet today at dinner," Mrs. Jones said, nudging Mercedes as she dried a plate in her hand.

"I'm thinking about Sam," Mercedes said gloomily. "I don't know what's going to happen to him."

"Have you talked to him?"

Mercedes shook her head.

"His parents grounded him, so he's not allowed to speak to anyone."

"I would've done the same thing," Mrs. Jones replied honestly.

**Mercedes**: I'm a little scared. I mean where does it end? He punched out a boy in a wheelchair. What if one day I meet the president of the United States, and he makes me cry?

**Mrs. Jones**: Then the president better learn how to duck before Sam smacks him.

**Mercedes**: [smiling] I'm serious.

**Mrs. Jones**: Okay, okay. Just look at it this way. You've been seeing this boy for awhile now. You know what sets him off. Learn from your mistakes.

**Mercedes**: But I don't want to hide stuff from him.

**Mrs. Jones**: Child please! Secrets are key to any successful relationship, especially when your man is bullheaded. See your father? I sneak his heart medication into his food every day, because he's still too stubborn to take them. I've been doing that for ten years! He still doesn't know.

**Mercedes**: Mom, that's horrible.

**Mrs. Jones**: Hey, he's alive isn't he? And you know how angry he gets when his blood pressure drops.

**Mercedes**: I guess I see your point. I still can't believe you drugged dad.

**Mrs. Jones**: I put iron in your eggs all through middle school

**Mercedes**: Mom!

**Mrs. Jones**: When you become a woman, you'll understand.

Just then the doorbell rang. Mrs. Jones took off her apron before going the front door. She opened it. Quinn stood on the porch. She was wearing a dress but no jacket even though it was very cold outside.

"May I help you?" Mrs. Jones asked, unsure of who this girl on her doorstep was.

Quinn wasn't expecting someone else besides Mercedes to open the door.

Quinn rubbed her hands together as she trembled.

"I-I'm sorry to bother you," she said timidly.

"Quinn?"

Mercedes had just arrived behind her mom, to see who was at the door at this time of night.

Quinn moved her hand along her arm as she kept her eyes toward the ground.

"I just got b-back from the hospital. My m-m-mother…tried to kill herself. The doctors don't know if she'll make it."

"Oh my god, Quinn," Mercedes said unable to fathom what Quinn was feeling.

"Th-the house is empty," Quinn said. "…My dad left, and my sister lives in Albany. I'm s-sorry I just…I had nowhere else to go-"

"Shh come in now," Mrs. Jones said, pulling Quinn into the house.

Quinn cried into Mrs. Jones shoulder.

"Mercedes, go into the kitchen and make some tea," Mrs. Jones said. "It's alright now sweetheart. Everything will be okay."

* * *

It was the next morning.

Artie watched Mercedes from across the library.

Cautiously, he came up to her, parking his wheelchair across from her at the table. She took no notice of him, silently turning the page of her history book.

"Hi," Artie said.

Mercedes said nothing.

"That boyfriend of yours has a mean right hook," Artie said.

Mercedes glanced up at Artie.

"Nice scar," she said, referring to under Artie's lip.

"Yeah, I lost a tooth too if you can believe it," Artie said with a smile.

Mercedes, who didn't laugh, brought her eyes back to her book.

Artie nervously cleared his throat.

"I have something for you," Artie said, holding up wrapped present.

"Why don't you give it to Sarah Artie? I'm busy," Mercedes said coldly.

**Artie**: I was wrong to fire you... I was hurt, and I wanted you to feel the way I did.

Mercedes closed her book.

**Mercedes**: Congratulations Artie. You hurt me.

**Artie**: I'm really sorry

**Mercedes**: I really don't care how sorry you are. It's clear to me now that you don't know how to treat people. And I have no interest in knowing you anymore.

**Artie**: I want you to come back to tutor me.

**Mercedes**: No thanks

**Artie**: I can get you the $3 bucks an hour.

**Mercedes**: I stopped picking up my paycheck two weeks after I started tutoring you.

**Artie**: …You did? Why.

**Mercedes**: Because…I didn't see the point in getting paid for something I'd do for free.

**Artie**: Oh…

Silence fell between the two.

**Artie**: I talked to my parents and Figgins. I told them that I started the fight and Sam was just defending your honor

**Mercedes**: And why would you do that?

**Artie**: Because it's true. I had no right to speak to you like that, and I deserved worse.

**Mercedes**: No you didn't. I wouldn't wish my worst enemy to get hit by Sam's fist.

Artie smiled then winced at the pain in his jaw.

**Artie**: You were the only friend I had and I took advantage of that. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I hope one day we can start over.

**Mercedes**: …I don't think so Artie.

**Artie**: I'm not going to give up.

**Mercedes**: You should.

Artie placed the gift on Mercedes' book.

**Artie**: Well I'm not… I'm going to win you back Mercedes Jones/

Artie slowly reversed back, then went out the library. Unbeknownst to Mercedes, he watched from the entrance, peaking over to see what Mercedes would do with his present.

Mercedes slowly picked up the gift, unwrapping it.

"Okay…" Artie said to himself, "If she smiles…then she forgives me."

Mercedes looked at the box of chocolates shaped as musical notes.

She smiled.

"Yes!" Artie whispered.

Mercedes then got up and tossed the chocolates in the trash bin before taking a seat back at the table.

Artie winced.

"Okay…this may be harder than I thought," he said.

* * *

The New Directions sat at the cool table in the cafeteria.

"Have I told you you're just about the luckiest bastard I've ever met?" Puck said, tousling Sam's hair.

"Right? I thought he was getting the axe for sure," Mike said.

"I don't know. Artie's parents changed their mind. But Sylvester and Figgins are making me do community service," Sam said.

"I'm glad this was all settled," Mercedes said. "Black and White stripes would look horrible on you."

"Hey! I didn't kill anybody," Sam said innocently.

"You beat a disabled kid within an inch of his life," Mike said. "They should have arrested you."

"I barely touched him!" Sam exclaimed.

"Uh no," Mercedes said, with a smile. "He talked to me today. Your heart was in the right place, but the boy can whistle through the hole in his chin now."

The others shook their heads.

"You saw him? What did he say?" Sam asked.

"He apologized," Mercedes said softly.

"And what did you say?" Sam said.

Mercedes shrugged her shoulders.

"That apologies weren't enough," she replied.

Mercedes and Kurt's eyes momentarily met before they looked away from each other.

"It's obvious he's in love with you," Santana said blatantly.

"No he's not," Mercedes said, narrowing her eyes at her friend.

"No, Santana might be right," Puck said.

"If that's the case, then maybe Artie may even try to join the New Directions to win back your heart," Mike said analytically. "That's what I would do."

Mercedes' stomach lurched, having never considered the thought.

"Nah…He hates singing," Mercedes said.

"I thought you said he was the best male singer you ever heard?" Santana said.

Mercedes kicked Santana under the table.

"The tuna surprise is good today," Mercedes said, changing the subject.

"Wait…this is tuna?" Finn said, looking at his plate.

"Where's Quinn?" Tina asked, noticing she wasn't there.

"She wasn't feeling well," said Mercedes.

She leaned into Sam.

"Quinn is staying at my house, so you'll see her during thanksgiving. But don't tell anyone," Mercedes whispered to Sam.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asked.

"I'll tell you after school," Mercedes told him.

"Where were you Kurt? Schuester was upset you didn't make it for practice," Santana said.

"Just felt like playing hooky," Kurt answered coolly, earning a five handshake from Puckerman.

Mercedes side-eyed Kurt. By the unusually deep tone in his voice, she could tell he was lying, but she wasn't about to interrogate him.

Everyone stopped talking when PA system in the school came on.

**_"Good Afternoon McKinley. This is your Principal. Will students Mike Chang, Kurt Hummel, Sarah Jacobson, Mercedes Jones, Noah Puckerman, Cindy Rawlins , and Matthew Rutherford please come to my office. Immediately."_**

There was some static when the announcement ended.

"What is that all about?" Tina asked.

"Maybe they're in trouble," Rachel said.

"Like Mercedes would ever be in trouble for the same thing as Puckerman," Santana said, also curious as to the odd announcement.

Mike, Mercedes, Kurt, and Puck got up cautiously from their seats, walking to the office.

…

Mercedes and the others sat in Mr. Figgins' office. Police Chief Fabray and the District Attorney stood behind Mr. Figgins.

"You're all are probably wondering why you were called you in today."

The students remained silent.

Mr. Figgins continued.

"All of you were members of the Student Civil Rights Organization and were preset in the Roosevelt High basement on September 12th 1965. There will be two hearings in which you will give testimony against a one David Nathaniel Karofsky for Arsony in the first degree and Attempted Murder in the first degree."

The District Attorney stepped forward.

"We know some of you are are still traumatized by the event. So we're giving you the option of giving us an affidavit, in which you tell us exactly what you know and what you remember. How many of you are willing to do that?"

Most of the students raised their hands.

"Good," Chief Fabray said. "But we must warn you, even if you're not in court, if you lie in your affidavit, it is perjury. In a sensitive case like this where someone's life is on the line, something like perjury could get you some jail time, even if you're minors."

The students remained silent. Mercedes caught eyes with Quinn's father, before quickly turning her gaze somewhere else.

"We'll be meeting with you separately after Thanksgiving to get your testimony," the D.A. said.

Mr. Figgins let the students out who filed quietly out into the hallway.

"Well this puts a damper in my holiday spirit," Kurt said.

Mercedes gulped.

"Kurt…There's something I have to tell you."

**To be continued…**

**[This is probably the last short chapter. The next one will be a doozy]**


	15. Chapter 15

**New Directions: Lima, Ohio 1965 part 15 Thanksgiving Special**

**[Hope you guys enjoy this one :) ]**

"Oh great, you're a morning person," Mercedes groaned, when she awoke to find Quinn using her dresser mirror to brush her hair.

"Morning? It's noon," Quinn said, shaking her head at Mercedes, who was still in bed.

"What?!"

Mercedes jumped out of bed.

"Noooo! Sam and his family are going to be here in two hours and nothing is done!" Mercedes said, rushing to her closet to pick out a dress.

"Calm down, you're mom's been cooking since eight. Everything's fine," Quinn said.

"I still gotta clean the guest bathroom, and vacuum the parlor," Mercedes said, taking out the curlers in her hair while pacing the room.

"Jesus, if you don't calm down, I'm going to trip you," Quinn said, getting up to help Mercedes.

Quinn sat Mercedes in her dresser chair, assisting her with her curlers and pins in her hair.

"…Thanks," Mercedes said.

"No problem," Quinn said.

"…Did you see your mom today?" Mercedes asked.

"Yeah…I brought her some flowers this morning. She started to open her eyes, but then she went back to sleep. I…I just hope she remembers me when she wakes up," Quinn said.

Mercedes looked at Quinn.

She smiled.

"…You know what, I'm gonna make sure this is the best Thanksgiving you've ever had," Mercedes said.

Quinn smirked.

"We'll see. Let's get your hair done first," Quinn said, tossing a hair clip at Mercedes' nose.

Both girls laughed.

* * *

"There's gonna be too many white people in my house," Mr. Jones said anxiously, smoking on his pipe.

"Shhh, before the girls here you!" Mrs. Jones said.

Mr. Jones paced back and forth in the kitchen nervously while his wife chopped onions.

"We're gonna be outnumbered in our own house," Mr. Jones continued.

"It's not war Eric, it's a dinner. If you didn't want the Evans to come, you shouldn't have invited them," Mrs. Jones said.

"It was either that having to eat cold turkey in that rickety mobile home of theirs," Mr. Jones said grumpily.

Mercedes came downstairs.

Her hair was done and she was wearing a yellow dress with sensible heels.

"You slept well," Mrs. Jones said.

"Figures the first time I get a goodnight's rest is on Thanksgiving," Mercedes said.

"Don't worry honey, everything's going fine," Mrs. Jones assured her.

The kitchen phone rang.

"That better not be any more people inviting themselves," Mr. Jones said.

Mercedes picked up the phone.

**Mercedes**: Hello?

**Matt**: Hey! Is dinner almost ready?

**Mercedes**: You should be here already. Are you at a pay phone?

**Matt**: Naw, I'm still at the dorm. I was wondering if I could bring a few friends.

**Mercedes**: No!

**Matt**: Why not?!

**Mercedes**: You know why not! We already have Sam's family coming and Quinn. There's no room for your college buddies!

Mr. Jones poked his daughter, trying to figure what was going on. Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Matthew wants to bring his friends to Thanksgiving!" Mercedes said.

"Oh! They can come," Mr. Jones said.

"What?!" Mercedes exclaimed.

"That'll even the battlefield," Mr. Jones said to his wife, who scoffed.

"Daddy! You know how Mattie's friends are! They're loud and obnoxious and are going to give Sam a hard time!" Mercedes said, trying to reason with her father.

Mr. Jones snatched the phone away from his daughter.

"Son, your friends are more than welcome. Hurry home now," Mr. Jones said joyously, hanging up the phone.

Mercedes jaw dropped.

She should have known this would be a beyond ordinary Thanksgiving.

Mercedes rushed upstairs. Quinn was sitting on her bed.

Mercedes angrily, went to her closet to pick out another dress.

"What's up?" Quinn asked.

"My dad just invited my brother's friends to thanksgiving dinner," Mercedes said. "I need a darker-colored dress just in case if one of those jerks spills something on me."

"Are they that bad?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Let me tell you, high school boys are as good as it gets. Boys only get dumber in college," Mercedes said, pulling off her dress.

* * *

Kurt woke up at noon on Thanksgiving Day.

Brittany had kept him up late the night before when she unexpectedly dropped by with her cat.

Kurt tried to keep his girlfriend busy with intellectual conversation, but she was more interested in getting to second base.

Finally, Kurt got her to leave when her cat started to throw up on his carpet.

He checked the front door to see if there was any new letters, knowing very well mail never got delivered on Thanksgiving.

Kurt enjoyed reading over the three letters he had gotten so far from Blaine. They wrote back and forth almost every week.

Kurt, still wearing his pajamas went downstairs to the kitchen.

His maid had gone grocery shopping the other day and left all the produce on the counter for him to start cooking.

Kurt sighed and rolled up his sleeves. First things first – he had to find the right cooking outfit. Then he'd worry about how to make this dinner.

* * *

"Gosh darn it!"

Mrs. Evans pulled out her third pumpkin pie from the oven.

"What's the matter?" Dwight asked his wife.

Mr. Evans stood in the sitting room, fixing his tie to his go-to brown suit.

"Well, I burnt the pie again didn't I," Mrs. Evans said, putting the pie next to the other two on the table.

Mr. Evans walked towards the table. He gave his wife a side-eye.

"Mary… all them pies are perfect," he said, looking at them.

"No, one is kinda lopsided on the left, the other has black edges, and this one has a burnt center. Look," Mrs. Evans said, pointing out the minor imperfections only visible to her.

Mr. Evans stuck one of his hands in the pies, breaking off a piece. He shoved it in his mouth.

"It's fine woman," Mr. Evans said, licking his fingers.

Mrs. Evans shook her head at her husband.

"Fine, I'll take the lopsided one," she said.

"Good, hurry it up," Mr. Evans replied.

"I'm ready! What about Sam?" Mrs. Evans said.

"He's already dressed. He's forcing Stacey into her Sunday dress now," Mr. Evans said.

"And Stevie?," Mrs. Evans said, putting on her hat.

"He's outside on the porch," Mr. Evans said.

"He better not dirty up his suit," Mrs. Evans said, looking out the window.

Mr. Evans went to Sam's room.

Sam had his little sister on his shoulder as his tried to buckle her shoes.

"I hate dresses" Stacey said.

"I know, but you have to wear it," Sam said. "Plus you want to see MJ don't you?"

"Uh huh," Stacey said.

Sam put Stacey down just when his dad arrived.

"We're all ready?" Dwight asked.

"Yup," Sam replied, already dressed in the suit his grandfather bought him.

The family walked out onto the porch.

Stevie hid his slingshot inside his coat just before his parents noticed it.

Everyone piled into the Astin Martin.

* * *

The doorbell rang.

Mr. Jones straightened his tie. He walked stiffly to the door, wanting to put his best foot forward.

He was still unsure if all these different people could come together to have dinner without World War three breaking out.

He opened the door.

Before Mr. Jones could even clear throat to give holiday salutations, Mr. Evans pulled him into a hug.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" he said, embracing an equally tall Mr. Jones, before patting him on the back.

"Yes uh, happy thanksgiving to you too," Mr. Jones said, fixing his suit.

"Quite a home you got here," Mr. Evans said, as Sam, Stacey, and Stevie took off their shoes near the front entrance.

"Mary, Happy Thanksgiving!" Mrs. Jones said, entering the parlor.

The two ladies hugged as if they were old friends.

"Jill, you look stunning. I love your dress," Mrs. Evans said, taking off her coat.

The two walked into the kitchen. Sam followed them, pulling Mrs. Jones into a hug from behind.

"Hey! Where's my girl?!" Mr. Evans shouted boisterously.

"Hold on! I'm coming," Mercedes said, coming from the kitchen. She had been drying her hands.

"There she is!" Mr. Evans said, giving her bear hug.

Mr. Jones stood puzzled, trying to figure just when exactly did the Evans and Jones clan become so close, and how he apparently missed the memo.

"I hope you helped your ma cook all this food where about to have!" Mr. Evans said, following Mercedes to the dining room.

"I was asleep for most of the cooking to be honest," Mercedes admitted.

"Shame on you darlin!" Mr. Evans said.

"Leave that girl alone Dwight!" Mrs. Evans called from the kitchen.

Mr. Jones was left standing near the front door with Stevie and Stacey.

"You gotta color TV?" Stevie asked.

"…Yeah I do?" Mr. Jones replied cautiously.

"Where's your bathroom?" Stacey asked.

"Upstairs," Mr. Jones said, narrowing his eyes.

Stacey took Mr. Jones hand.

Mr. Jones reluctantly led her to the restroom.

…

While Mrs. Jones and Evans conversed at the breakfast table, Sam playfully poked Mercedes while she diced celery in the kitchen.

Sam tapped Mercedes' right shoulder, making her look the other way so he could steal a piece of celery.

"Would you stop?" Mercedes said, trying to elbow Sam.

Sam smiled, dodging Mercedes hand while taking another piece of celery.

"What're you a rabbit?" Mercedes asked.

"Sam, leave her alone," Mrs. Evans said from the table.

"I'm hungry," Sam said, pouting.

"We have some popcorn you can microwave," Mrs. Jones said.

"Nah, don't listen to that boy. He's not hungry. He's just trying to annoy Mercedes," Mrs. Evans said, seeing right through her eldest son.

"Sit down Samuel," she said.

Sam sat down next to his mother and Mrs. Jones.

Right when Mercedes added the last ingredients to the stuffing, the doorbell rang.

"That must be your brother," Mrs. Jones said.

"He must have lost his key again if he's ringing the door bell," Mercedes said, wiping her hands on her apron.

Mercedes walked out of the kitchen past the parlor to the front door.

She opened it to find her brother and two of his friends.

"What took you so long?! We almost froze out here," Matt said, pushing pass his sister to get inside.

"Nice to see you too Mattie," Mercedes said halfheartedly.

One of Matt's college friends, Maurice, pulled Mercedes into a hug.

"How's it hanging little sis?" he said.

"I'm fine thank you," Mercedes said, fixing her hair, when Maurice let go.

"Sup my Nubian sista," Matt's second friend, Phillip, said while holding out his fist for Mercedes' to pound.

"Hello Phillip," Mercedes replied, only having foul memories the last time she saw him.

"Something smells good," Phillip said, "but I hope yall aren't cooking any pork in this house. Elijah Muhammad says the pig is the foulest animal."

Mercedes rubbed her tongue alone the bottom row of her teeth, in disbelief that Phillip managed to get even stranger than she remembered.

"No, there is no pork Phillip," Mercedes said. "I assume Mattie you too have stopped consuming the 'evil swine,'?"

"Yes ma'am," Mattie said proudly.

"Also, you shouldn't wear a dress that is so low cut. A proud honorable black woman should not have to put her chest on display," Phillip continued.

Mercedes furrowed her eyebrows.

Mattie shook his head, silently communicating to Phillip to abort mission.

"Yeah, well this sister likes her breasts just where they are. Maybe Elijah Muhammad should teach you to keep your eyes in an appropriate place," Mercedes responded.

"You walked right into that Phil," Maurice said, with a smirk.

Mr. Jones came downstairs with Stacey.

"Oh, The Man is here already I see," Phillip said, watching Stacey go to the couch to watch Tv with Stevie.

"Can't you go have Thanksgiving with your own family Phillip?" Mercedes asked.

"They're in Cancun for their Honeymoon. Plus I couldn't miss a chance to meet your pigment challenged boyfriend," Phillip replied.

Mercedes rolled her eyes, leaving her brother's friends to go back to the kitchen.

Quinn, who had just got off the phone with her sister, came downstairs.

"Just how many white people are in your house man?" Phillip muttered to Matt.

Matt, who did not reply, had his eyes glued to his friend's sister.

For some reason, despite a decent description from Mercedes, Matt had not imagined Quinn would look the way she did. It was a pleasant surprise for him.

Quinn stopped in front of Matt, holding out her hand politely.

"Hi I'm Quinn; you must be Matthew," she said, assuming the tallest boy with brown dough eyes was Mercedes' big brother.

"…Yeah, nice to meet you," Matt said, shaking Quinn's hand.

"Your mom let me sleep in your room, if that's okay," Quinn said.

Matt smiled.

"No, it's fine. I don't mind sleeping on the couch. I practically live in the den anyway," Matt said.

Quinn smiled.

"Thanks," she said.

The two continued to hold hands.

"Well, I'd better help Mercedes in the kitchen," Quinn said, slowly taking her hand away.

"Uh yeah! Well nice meeting you Quinn," Matt said, watching Quinn walk away.

When Quinn finally entered the kitchen, Maurice let out a whistle.

"That is niiice," he said to Matthew.

"Resist temptation young black brother. The white woman-" Phillip began.

"Shut it Phil," Matt said.

When Quinn entered the kitchen, Mercedes, Sam, and Mrs. Jones were gathered around the open freezer.

"This cannot be happening," Mercedes said in despair.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked.

"The freezer stopped working," Mercedes said, shaking her head. "Of all the days it decided today to shut down."

"Don't worry," said Mrs. Jones. "We can use the defrosted food now that we have two more mouths to feed."

"But what about the ice cream? It's all melted," Mercedes said.

"I can pick up some," Quinn said.

"I couldn't let you do that," Mrs. Jones said. "Plus all the stores are closed.

"There's a gas station seven miles off Jefferson that is open until five on Thanksgiving," Sam said

"Good, Sam go pick up three bags of ice and some ice cream," Mrs. Evans said.

Sam took his keys out of his pocket before heading out the kitchen.

"Sam! What's up man?" Matt said, shaking his sister's boyfriend's hand.

"Hey Matthew," Sam said, having not seen Mercedes' brother since September.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"Get some ice," Sam said.

"We'll come with you," Maurice said, who still had his jacket on.

"Yeah," Phillip said, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. "It'll give us a chance to get to know each other."

Sam correctly interpreted this as some form of intimidation.

"Oookay," Sam said. The four boys stepped outside.

Sam pulled out his keys, walking to the car.

"Woah, this is your car?!" Matt said, checking out Sam's grandfather's Astin Martin.

"Yep," Sam said, opening the door to get in.

"I'll drive," Phillip said, snatching the keys from Sam. "You don't mind…do you brother?"

This move by any other person would have had Sam ready to fight, but it was Thanksgiving and Sam didn't want to give Mercedes' brother any reason to dislike him.

"Yeah, it's cool," Sam said, moving to the passenger seat.

"Shot gun!" Maurice yelled, brushing passed Sam to sit in the front.

Sam sucked his teeth before getting in the back seat with Matthew.

Mercedes and her mother heard the car engine start from the kitchen.

"Oh!" Mrs. Jones said, remembering. She went to her purse and pulled out five dollars.

"Give this to Sam for the ice and ice cream."

Mercedes rushed to the front door to give Sam the money.

She was surprised to find her brother and his friends in the car with him.

Mercedes walked up to the back seat of the car, motioning for her brother to roll down the window.

"Yup?" Matt said casually, while sticking his head out the car window.

"What are you doing?" Mercedes asked. "And why is Phillip driving Sam's car?"

"We're just coming along for the ride," Maurice said with a devious smile.

"I don't like this," Mercedes said.

Sam leaned over Matt, so he could reach Mercedes.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Sam said coolly.

Sam stole a quick kiss from Mercedes through the window, agitating all the other boys in the car.

They could tell that Mercedes' new boyfriend was not easily intimidated and would be hard to break.

"Okay," Mercedes said, handing Sam the five dollars. "Don't take too long."

Mercedes moved away from the car so Phillip could reverse out of the driveway.

Mercedes walked back into the house.

Stevie and Stacey sat on either side of Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones, who wore the face of someone sitting on something very uncomfortable tried to answer all the questions Sam's little siblings threw at him.

Mercedes laughed, wondering if her father was ever this awkward when she and her little brother were little.

"Hey, you guys want some milk and cookies?" Mercedes asked.

Stacey jumped off the couch, taking Mercedes' hand.

Stevie crossed his arms.

"Cookies n' milk is for babies," Stevie said.

Stacey stuck her tongue out at Stevie.

"Sam loves my cookies," Mercedes said.

"That's because he's a baby," Stevie said coldly.

Mr. Jones smiled.

"I like this kid already," he said, also folding his arms on the couch.

Mercedes and Stacey rolled their eyes before going back into the kitchen.

* * *

"Where are we?" Sam asked.

Phillip stopped the car on the side of the road.

Up ahead was a one-story brick house buzzing with loud music.

The smell of food could be reached from where the boys were, and by the amount of cars parked in the driveway, it seemed the whole neighborhood was partaking in the feast.

"This is the Johnson's house," Matt explained, "Every year they have big thanksgiving party."

All the boys got out of the car.

Sam put his hands in his coat pocket.

"We're gonna see if we can snag free beer," Matt said, as all the boys trolled up the driveway dressed in their best church clothes.

"Nervous, white boy?" Phillip said.

Sam smirked.

"Are you?" he replied.

Matt cleared his throat before knocking on the door.

It didn't take three seconds for someone to open the door.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" a young black woman said, letting the four boys in without question.

"Happy Thanksgiving," The boys replied in unison.

The house was packed to the brim with people; some, Sam recognized from school. There were people sitting on the stairs with plates, people, in the hallway, in the living room, in the dining room, all chatting and eating.

"Hey, I'm going to check the back porch. Just chill right here and I'll be back," Matt said, before going off by himself.

Phillip, Maurice, and Sam remained standing by the door.

Phillip and Maurice coolly bobbed their heads to the music, occasionally nodding their heads at cute girls passing by them.

"…Not your scene Sammy boy?" Phillip said, looking over his shoulder at Sam, who remained quiet in the corner.

Sam shrugged his shoulder coolly.

Just then a little boy bumped into Sam almost tripping.

He did a double take when he realized he had just bumped into.

"Hey! It's Sam Evans!" he said, loud enough for others to hear.

"SAM!"

Three adults pulled Sam out of the corner and into the center of the house.

Two young teenagers got up from the couch so he could sit down.

More people crowded Sam as he took a seat on the couch.

"How's the team Sam!? We going to the playoffs this year?" one man asked.

"Looks like it. You know Roosevelt gave us a real good boost in talent," Sam said. Everyone concurred.

Mrs. Johnson came from the back of the house with a plate for Sam.

"Oh I couldn't," Sam began, when she started handing him the food.

"Hush up now! I know you how you growing boys eat. Someone give this boy some ice tea!" she shouted.

"Martha he's a grown man. Give this boy a cold one!" said Mr. Johnson.

Someone handed Sam a beer.

Maurice and Phillip watched in disbelief as everyone took turns pampering Sam, who smiled graciously over all the attention.

It was an unknown fact to Matt's friends that Sam was actually something of a town hero in Lima Heights, especially after the kidnapping rescue.

"Are the greens too bitter?" one person asked.

Sam, whose mouth was full, shook his head.

"No, it's perfect. My mom couldn't make it better," Sam said. "Don't tell her though."

Everyone laughed in unison, a few people slapping Sam on the back.

"…What is this world coming too," Phillip muttered quietly, who had yet to receive a plate of food.

"I don't know man…But I'm starting to like him too," Maurice admitted.

Phillip looked at Maurice in disgust.

Matt returned from the backyard with four beers in his hand.

It was easy to get past people with everyone paying attention to Sam.

When Sam saw Matt, he got the cue it was time to go.

"I have to go pick up some ice for Mrs. Jones," Sam said, getting up.

"You have to leave so soon?" Mr. Johnson said.

"Give him a plate to go Ray!" one woman shouted.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you for the food," Sam said, hugging Mrs. Johnson.

"Come back again! We play a game of poker every Thursday on the porch," Mr. Johnson said. "And we can talk more football."

"Look forward to it," Sam said, shaking hands with the old man.

"Byyyeee Sam!" a few people called, as Sam and the boys walked out the front door.

Matt laughed patting his sister's boyfriend on the shoulder.

"I think I'll drive little Phillip," Sam said, snatching his car keys back from Phillip who pouted.

Maurice and Matt cackled at the look on Phillip's face as they walked back to the car.

* * *

All the food was practically ready.

Mercedes and Quinn placed the plates on the table.

"I can't believe they aren't back yet," Mercedes said.

"They're fine," Quinn said. "…Your brother seems nice."

Mercedes side-eyed Quinn.

"…He can be," Mercedes replied with a smirk.

"What?" Quinn said.

Mercedes raised her eyebrow in a you-tell-me way.

Quinn smiled, continuing to set the plates.

"Alright well answer me this then…What do you think of me and Sam?" Mercedes asked.

She had been meaning to ask Quinn this for a while. Not only was Quinn a close friend of Sam's, but Mercedes had begun to respect Quinn's opinion like she would a big sister.

"It doesn't matter what I think," Quinn said.

"Yeah it does," Mercedes said.

"Honestly, I don't think there will ever be another guy who will love you harder than Sam does. Having said that, I also think there isn't any other boy who will get you into more trouble than Sam will," Quinn said.

Mercedes laughed.

"I'm starting to figure that out," she said.

Quinn put the last plate down.

"…Just don't let your Superman be your kryptonite," Quinn said.

Mercedes thought about this statement.

The doorbell rang.

"Mattie forgot his key again," Mercedes said, going to the front of the house.

Mercedes opened the front door.

Detective Corcoran stood at her porch.

Seeing as she rarely had good news, Mercedes felt her heart drop.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Shelby said.

Mercedes didn't reply but merely swallowed.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but with the hearing coming up I thought it may be better for you to receive this as soon as possible," Shelby said, handing Mercedes an envelope.

Mercedes looked at the address.

_Montgomery County Jail_

Mercedes looked back at Shelby.

"…I'd invite you in, but Quinn's here-"

"No, it's fine. Have a happy Thanksgiving. I'll call you Monday," Shelby said.

Mercedes waited for Shelby to get back in her car before Mercedes walked back into the house.

* * *

Sam and the boys pulled up to the last gas station on Main Street.

"What?!"

Sam and Matthew got out of the car.

The store owner had just locked the front entrance.

"Sir, you can't be closed," Sam said.

"Sorry son," the store owner said.

"Please, let us buy some ice off of you. It won't take thirty seconds," Matt said.

"Sorry kid. I usually stay open late on Thanksgiving, but the in-laws came in this year and I really gotta hightail it on home to the missus.

The store owner walked to the back of the gas station and got into his truck.

"What do we do now?" Matt said.

Sam rubbed the back of his head.

"… I got an idea," Sam said

* * *

Mercedes paced back and forth in her room with the letter in her hand.

"Open it, don't open it. Open it, don't open it," she kept saying.

Mercedes ripped the seal of the letter.

Right then the doorbell rang.

"Mercedes! You have a visitor!" Mrs. Jones called

Mercedes put the envelope back in her apron pocket.

She went downstairs.

Mrs. Abrams stood at the door with a homemade pie in her hand.

"Sorry to drop by unexpected like this," Artie's mom said.

"No, come in. Happy Thanksgiving," Mercedes said.

"I made this for your family, just as a thank you for helping my son this year," Mrs. Abrams said, handing the pie to Mercedes.

"It's no big deal," Mercedes said.

"Yes it is," Mrs. Abrams said. "I know you don't tutor Artie anymore…but he's made real progress this year, and I just hope you two can be friends again," she said.

Mercedes smiled politely.

"Well, I'd better go," Mrs. Abrams said, stepping down the porch stairs.

Mr. Abrams, who was in the car, beeped his horn. Mercedes waved and watched them drive off before closing the door.

On top of the pie was a Thanksgiving card from Artie.

Mercedes opened it.

_**Dear Mercedes,**_

_I would have sent this myself but I know you still hate me. Hoping we can be friends again and that maybe I can serenade you with my smooth voice._

_**P.S.**__ I bet you're smiling right now_

Mercedes stopped smiling when she realized she was indeed smiling from the letter. She crumpled it up.

"What an ass," she said with a smirk, before bringing the pie to the kitchen.

* * *

Sam shed his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves

He turned over the crate behind the store. Sam stood on it to reach the windows.

Matt served as a look out as Sam cracked the window to the ice room.

Sam got it open in a matter of seconds.

"Yeah…Somethin tells me you've done this before," Matt said.

Sam propped the window open.

"…I'm not gonna lie to you man. I… was a little bit lost as a kid," Sam admitted.

Sam climbed through the window.

He tossed out the first bag of ice.

"…You know Mercedes told me about your pops, and how you had to provide for your family and everything. I hope you don't mind," Matthew said.

Sam tossed out two more bags of ice that Matthew caught.

Sam climbed back out of the window.

"It's cool." Sam said, blowing on his hands. "I did a lot of things I'm not proud of…some things I don't really want Mercedes to know about yet."

"So, you got a record huh," Matt said.

"…Well, records are for people who get caught," Sam replied. Sam nervously put back on his coat, knowing full well Mercedes' brother would be judging him.

"Don't worry about it man, I won't tell her. But be warned, Mercedes is pretty smart at figuring these things out if you haven't noticed already," Matthew said, making Sam smile.

"…yeah I know," Sam said, thinking about how suspicious Mercedes was at how Sam managed to scale up two stories without a scratch.

Sam pulled out the five bucks, leaving it on the window seal for the store owner.

"Let's go," Matt said, heading back to the car with Sam.

* * *

When Sam and the boys made it back to the house, dinner was just about to be served.

Everyone started taking their seats at the table.

"Where's Mercedes," Sam asked.

"She went upstairs, probably going to change her dress again. I'll go get her," Quinn said.

Quinn dashed up the stairs.

She knocked on Mercedes bedroom door.

There was no sound.

"Mercedes? Dinner's ready," Quinn began, pushing the door open.

Mercedes sat on her bed, with the open letter in her hand.

"Oh!" Mercedes said startled, quickly folding the letter back, and placing it in the envelope.

"Come on, let's go," Mercedes said with a smile, brushing past Quinn to go downstairs.

Quinn walked towards the bed, touching the envelope.

She saw the address and who the letter was from.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. She followed after Mercedes downstairs.

* * *

"This stuffing is delicious, Jill," Mrs. Evans said.

"Thank you, it's an old family recipe," Mrs. Jones replied.

"My mother never cooked when I was a little girl," Mrs. Evans began.

Mercedes, who wasn't listening to the table discussion, watched everyone silently at the table. She watched their smiles, their nose scrunches and laughs. And then she thought about Karofsky, and how his father was probably sitting in his big empty house on the other side of town, wishing he could see his son.

"Mercedes, are you listening?" Mrs. Jones asked with a smile.

"What? Oh, no ma'am," Mercedes replied.

"Mr. Evans asked you about school," said Mrs. Jones.

"Has the senior bug hit you yet? My last year of high school, I couldn't wait to get of class and start my life," Mr. Evans said.

Mercedes smiled.

"I think it's little too soon to be thinking about that," Mercedes said.

"It's never too soon to make plans," Mrs. Evans said.

"I couldn't agree more," Mr. Jones chimed in, "which is why Mercedes is already being considered for early acceptance to dental school."

Sam couldn't help but look disgusted while he chewed on his piece of turkey next to Mercedes.

"Well… we haven't fully decided if that's the path Mercedes wants to take," Mrs. Jones began. "I'm sure she would do very well as a freshman coed at University."

"That's a waste of time Jill. We've already discussed this," Mr. Jones interrupted.

"Well, it's up to Mercedes isn't it," Sam interjected above his plate.

"Sam, don't," Mercedes said.

Mr. Jones sucked his teeth.

"No, let the boy speak. He obviously has your best interest in mind Mercedes. Sam, why don't you tell us what your plans are after graduation," said Mr. Jones with a poisonous smirk.

Sam remained silent.

"We're waiting Sam," Mr. Jones continued.

"Daddy, leave him alone," Mercedes said.

"What? It's a legitimate question Mercy. Your boyfriend seems so vocal about your future, and he has yet to tell us about his plans…besides the fact that he intends for you two to elope."

Mercedes, Mrs. Jones, and Mrs. Evans spit out their water.

"Elope?!" all women said in unison.

Mercedes looked at Sam whose face had been flushed of all color.

"What is he talking about?" Mercedes asked.

"Do tell Samuel," Mrs. Evans said folding her arms.

Sam, with much difficulty, swallowed his stuffing.

"…Did I say elope?" Sam asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

"Yes, yes you did… Son-in-law," Mr. Jones said mockingly.

"…I admit I said it in anger," Sam began. "But that was only because you said you were going to put MJ in a boarding school."

All the women immediately snapped their head in Mr. Jones direction.

"BOARDING SCHOOL?!" Mercedes and Mrs. Jones exclaimed in unison.

Mr. Jones uncomfortably cleared his throat.

"…See…what had happened was," Mr. Jones began.

"We're waiting, Eric," Sam said.

"…I don't have to explain my actions to you or my daughter," Mr. Jones said coldly.

The table went silent.

"Eric, may I speak with you in the living room. Now" Mrs. Jones said, getting up.

Mr. Jones could tell from his wife's tone that it wasn't a request.

Mercedes looked down at her plate sadly.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones left the table.

Mercedes lifted up her head and smiled as sweetly as possible to break the tension, but it only added to the awkwardness of the situation.

"Mrs. Evans I…I can't wait to try your pie. It smells delicious," Mercedes began.

Mrs. Evans smiled back at her.

"Could someone pass the green beans," Quinn asked.

Three people quickly reached for the green bean casserole, to which Matt got first. He smiled at Quinn, handing it to her.

"…I can whistle through my front tooth. Wanna see?" Stacey asked.

Mercedes looked up at Sam's little sister.

Stacey attempted to whistle what sounded like a drunk version of '_This Old Man.'_

Mercedes tried not to laugh, but almost everyone at the table already was.

Mercedes covered her mouth and giggled, as everyone chuckled. Matthew, who sat between Stacey and Quinn, started to sing the words while Maurice started clapping along.

"This old man, he played four,  
He played knick-knack on my door;  
With a knick-knack paddywhack,  
Give the dog a bone,  
This old man came rolling home."

Everyone started clapping, giving more confidence for Stacey to continue.

"Pick it up Mercy! Pick it up!" Matt shouted.

Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"This old man, he played five,  
He played knick-knack on my hive;  
With a knick-knack paddywhack,  
Give the dog a bone,  
This old man came rolling home," Mercedes sang.

"OHHHH," the table yelled, causing Mercedes to double over in laughter.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones stood in the living room.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" Mrs. Jones asked her husband.

"What? I can't ask the boy a question?"

"I don't care if that boy's life ambition is to join the circus. He saved our daughter's life TWICE, and his family deserves more respect than you're giving them," Mrs. Jones said, poking her husband in the chest.

"Look here woman, this is my house-"

"WELL IT'S MY DAMN HOUSE TOO! I worked just as many hours as you at that practice, helping you make that money that put the roof over our children's heads. Now I know you a grown man Eric, but I will not let you be rude to anyone who is a guest in my house. If you can't behave you can go upstairs and stay there."

Mr. Jones' eyes widened in indignation. It would have been a correct assumption until now, to say that Mrs. Jones was a quiet woman. But for the first time ever, Mr. Jones was a little afraid of his wife.

Mrs. Jones took her husband's arm, leading him to the door going into the dining room.

"Listen to that," Mrs. Jones said.

Through the door you could hear everyone clapping and laughing along to the song.

"All the drama that exists between our two families is in your head. Get with the program," Mrs. Jones said, before going back inside the dining room.

When Stacey finally ran out of air, everyone applauded her for her rudimentary whistling.

"Who wants pie!" Mrs. Jones called.

Everyone eagerly held up their plates.

"Children first," said Mrs. Jones.

Everyone put their plate down except for Stacey and Stevie.

"Oh! So now you're a baby, huh?" Mercedes said teasingly.

Stevie's face went red, as Mrs. Jones placed a slice of Mrs. Evans pie on his plate, then Stacey's.

"Can I have two please?" Sam asked, holding up his plate.

"Of course you can Samuel," Mrs. Jones said.

"You're even bigger baby," Mercedes said side-eyeing her boyfriend.

"Thanks mom," Sam said to Mrs. Jones who smiled as Sam inhaled the first slice.

* * *

"Quinn, you are terrible at this!" Sam said, as Quinn awkwardly tried to motion what her word is.

"Times up!" Mr. Evans called.

"Hula hoop!" Quinn exclaimed angrily, tossing her word at Sam.

"How could you not get that?!" Quinn said.

"That looked like baby, not hula hoop," Sam said.

"Thanks to you we're losing now," Quinn said, as she sat back down on the couch.

After dinner, a game of charades had started.

Three teams had been formed.

Mercedes group of Mr. Evans, Stevie, and Phillip had just stepped ahead of Sam, Quinn, and Mrs. Jones' team.

"Alright guys let's win this!" Mr. Evans shouted.

Phillip went up to the fireplace and pulled out a word from the ashtray.

Phillip looked at his word; a small look of anxiety hit his face before he stuck the paper in his pocket.

"Okay, your time starts now!" Mrs. Jones said.

Phillip motioned eating something.

"FOOD! EATING! FOOD!" Mercedes and Mr. Evans yelled in unison.

Phillip silently motioned that food was correct but what type of food.

"Okay…Some kind of crunch to it. CHIPS?" Mercedes said.

Phillip shook his head.

Phillip motioned unwrapping the food and crunching on it.

Mercedes and Mr. Evans were stumped.

"Ten seconds left!" Mrs. Jones said.

"Oh my gosh what is it!" Mercedes said, desperate to win.

Phillip motioned nibbling on the invisible food then he pointed to Mr. Evans.

"CRACKER!" Stevie shouted.

"YES!" Phillip exclaimed, slapping hands with Sam's little brother.

Mercedes' mouth gaped open.

"PHILLIP WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Mercedes said as Phillip and Stevie celebrated.

"What?! He got it didn't he?" Phillip said innocently.

"You're a horrible person Phillip. You too Stevie," Mercedes said.

"You're just mad cause you didn't get it," Stevie said.

"WE WON, STICK THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT," Mr. Evans cheered.

Mercedes laughed, seeing as Mr. Evans seemed to only care that they won.

"That's cheating," Sam said. "Racism should not be allowed to guess a word."

"Shut up boy. My team won, which means ya'll gotta do the dishes," Mr. Evans told his son.

Just then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Mercedes said.

She opened the door.

Kurt stood in front of her.

Mercedes' heart started beating twice as fast than it originally was, though she kept a calm look on her face.

"Kurt! Come in!" Mrs. Jones said.

"Hi Mrs. Jones, I was just stopping by," Kurt said with a polite smile.

"How's your father?" Mrs. Jones asked.

"He's fine…Mercedes, can I speak with you? Outside," Kurt said, remaining on the other side of the door.

"…Sure," Mercedes said, having a pretty good idea what Kurt wanted to talk about. "Let me get my coat."

Sam watched Kurt from the couch.

Kurt remained silent till Mercedes came back with her coat. Mercedes went out onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

Kurt paced the patio. Mercedes could tell he was angry.

**Kurt**: What the hell did you do?

**Mercedes**: Excuse me?

**Kurt**: Don't play dumb. Detective Corcoran dropped off a letter to me from Karofsky.

**Mercedes**: What did yours say?

**Kurt**: I burnt it Mercedes.

**Mercedes**: Why would you do that?!

**Kurt**: Did you write him?!

**Mercedes**: No!

**Kurt**: God! How can you sympathize with that psychopath!?

**Mercedes**: Hey, I'm not exonerating the guy! But if he's innocent-

**Kurt**: You don't know that!

**Mercedes**: I told you what I saw!

**Kurt**: No offense, but I'm not willing to put too much stock in your fever dreams.

**Mercedes**: You don't have to be an asshole.

**Kurt**: This is my life okay, which you seem hell bent on sabotaging.

**Mercedes**: Don't start with this again. I helped you. It's your own fault you can't keep your shit together.

**Kurt**: Like you're the one to talk. I'm so sick of your hypocritical bullshit.

**Mercedes**: Hypocritical? Enlighten me Kurt.

**Kurt**: Blaine, despite your disapproval, makes me happy. And even if he made a few questionable choices, he is a good person, and what you did to him was wrong. I don't remember trying to sabotage your relationship with Sam.

**Mercedes**: You still don't get it do you.

**Kurt**: Get what?

**Mercedes**: When I met Sebastian…. He was so…familiar. Like a weird warped carnival mirror. It scared the hell out of me.

"…He reminded you of Sam," Kurt said.

"He reminded me of you." Mercedes replied.

Kurt looked at Mercedes.

He narrowed his eyes.

"I'm…nothing like him."

Mercedes scoffed.

She turned around, facing Kurt.

"Kurt…you are him."

Kurt stood up.

"Sebastian is a psychopath! He…he doesn't care who he hurts. He uses people!" Kurt said.

Mercedes tilted her head at Kurt, looking at him as if he was an amoeba under a petri dish.

"How's your girlfriend Kurt?"

Kurt's eyes widened slightly.

"Assuming you haven't dumped Brittany yet, and I know got with Blaine, you're a textbook two-timer," Mercedes said casually.

"Wait, that's different. I don't love Britt-"

"Does she know that? Of course she doesn't, because you're using her," said Mercedes.

**Kurt**: She asked me out first

**Mercedes**: You preyed on Brittany just like Sebastian preyed on Blaine, only difference is Blaine knew exactly what he was getting into and Brittany knows absolutely nothing, and you mean to keep it that way because you still need her to cover for you at school. You think she and Blaine would be happy to know they're sharing you?

**Kurt**: I…

**Mercedes**: Sebastian grew up around horrible people his whole life, and yet it only took you one weekend to copy his complete existence, don't you find that interesting?

**Kurt**: Look…I know it seems a little messed up. But I did it for love.

**Mercedes**: You did it for lust. You don't know Blaine.

**Kurt**: You don't know Sam! Why don't you ask him how many girls he's been with!

**Mercedes**: That doesn't matter to me because at least I know he wasn't cheating on me which is more than I can say for you.

**Kurt**: Alright! I made a mistake.

**Mercedes**: Made? More like making. And the worst part, like Sebastian, you don't feel an ounce of guilt about it.

**Kurt**: I'm not him! Sebastian is an actual bad person.

**Mercedes**: When it comes down to self-preservation, we're all bad people. You are not an exception to that.

**Kurt**: Well neither are you. I'm sure you haven't told Sam about your fantasying about me while you to neck.

Mercedes slapped Kurt.

"Don't fool yourself. You're not better than anybody else, especially Sam. I'll admit that I have feelings for you, but I've more than come to grips that they're feelings you can't reciprocate. You're a busy guy with two decent people you've managed to turn into whores without their permission. You're not going to do that to me," Mercedes said.

"I would never do that to you," Kurt said, holding his face where Mercedes hit him.

"Yeah I know because I'm not a boy like Blaine and I'm not slow like Brittany," said Mercedes.

"No, it's because you're my friend."

Mercedes shook her head.

"I wish I could believe you. But you're not the boy I thought you were. I'm not even the girl I thought I was."

Mercedes rubbed her head like she was getting a migraine.

"You were right Kurt… I was wrong for what I did at Dalton. But Sebastian told me that everyone has their price and I guess my price was you. I don't care if you ever forgive me. I don't even care about what happened to Blaine. God forgive me, but the only thing I truly regret is whether or not I should have let you bury yourself."

Mercedes went back into the house, leaving Kurt on the patio.

When Mercedes came back into the living room, Mr. Evans had borrowed her brother's guitar and hand started playing one of his songs.

* * *

"You don't have to help me do the dishes," Sam said with a smile. "You weren't on the losing team."

"I want to help," Mercedes said. "Plus, we have to talk."

"Okay, that's no guy's favorite words," Sam said jokingly. "Is it about Kurt?"

"He might've mentioned something," Mercedes said.

Sam shook his head.

"I knew that cat was shifty," Sam said.

"It's not like that," Mercedes said. "But I've just kinda realized how much…I really don't know about you."

Sam got quiet. Mercedes could see him tensing up nervously.

"Don't get me wrong. I know you're a good person Sam, and I know you haven't had an easy life…but there are some things as your girlfriend I think I should know about you," Mercedes said.

"…What do you want to know?" Sam asked, scratching his neck.

"Well for one…Are you a virgin?" Mercedes asked.

Sam went quiet again.

"Does it matter?" Sam asked.

"…Yeah it does," Mercedes replied honestly.

Sam put the clean plate in the dish drainer.

Sam looked down, before quickly shaking his head "No."

"…How many people have you had sex with?" Mercedes asked.

"Honestly…I'm not sure," Sam said.

Sam kept his eyes away from Mercedes, keeping his attention on the dishes.

"…That many?!" Mercedes said.

"No! It's not like that. Mercedes…" Sam began. "I lost my virginity when I was thirteen."

Mercedes tried not to look too shocked at this information.

"…I was a really fucked up kid. I thought I was an adult at the time, and I got into a lot of trouble, especially when I lived with my cousin."

"…Did you sleep with Rachel?"

"No," Sam said, finally looking at Mercedes.

"…Have you ever slept with anyone I know?" Mercedes asked.

"Samantha Sims sophomore year." Sam said, hanging his head in shame.

"Well…that explains why she hates me," Mercedes said softly.

Mercedes smiled at the irony of the situation. "Sorry, this is a lot to take in," she admitted.

"I know what you're thinking," Sam said.

"What am I thinking?" Mercedes asked.

"That I'm a slut," Sam said.

It was odd for Mercedes to hear a boy call himself a slut.

Mercedes passed Sam another plate.

"You're not a slut Sam," Mercedes told him. "You were a kid without a dad to explain this stuff to you… I'm just glad you told me."

"We're never gonna have sex now," Sam said all depressed.

Mercedes elbowed Sam playfully.

"So…is there anything else I should know about your past?" Mercedes asked.

"Um…No," Sam said.

Mercedes nodded her head.

She knew Sam was still hiding something, but Mercedes believed he had every right to talk about it only when he was ready.

"Do you have something to tell me?" Sam asked.

"Like what?!" Mercedes said indignantly.

"I know you're virgin, cause you got written all over your face. But I wanna know who you taught you how to french kiss," Sam said, raising his eyebrow.

Mercedes' face went red.

"That's not important," Mercedes said.

"Hold on wait a minute now. You went all Perry Mason on my love life. I just want to know where a cute wallflower like yourself learned how to kiss like that," Sam said.

"It's not that big of a deal," Mercedes said, getting more embarrassed.

Sam laughed.

"Why you blushin so hard? It wasn't Kurt was it?" Sam asked.

Mercedes shook her head.

"Did you practice on your pillow?" Sam asked, getting more and more intrigued.

"No! …Santana taught me okay."

As soon as Mercedes said it, Sam's face turned the most peculiar sort of red.

"…Are you mad?" Mercedes asked.

Sam had forgotten how to blink.

"Nuh uh," Sam said, shaking his head slowly.

"Wait… was Santana the one to offer to teach you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah…Why?" Mercedes said.

Sam smiled.

"Nothing. Just…no reason," Sam said, going back to the dishes.

Mercedes went back into the living room.

Sam smirked, realizing he had figured out something about Santana that Mercedes herself had yet to realize.

* * *

Mercedes and Quinn got ready for bed in the bathroom.

"So, feel free to hit me," Mercedes said, tying up her hair.

"Why?" Quinn asked, as used Mercedes' brush.

**Mercedes**: Because I promised you the best Thanksgiving ever and it was a train wreck.

**Quinn**: …When did the train wreck happen? It was kind of awesome to me.

**Mercedes**: Really?

**Quinn**: Yeah, I mean it started off bumpy but I think everyone ended up having a good time, even your dad who really bites at charades.

**Mercedes**: I'm glad you had a good time.

**Quinn**: Me too. So…what happened between you and Kurt? He seemed hot over something

**Mercedes**: Yeah he was…

**Quinn**: He still jealous of you and Sam?

**Mercedes**: What?!

**Quinn**: You don't see it? The guy almost grinded his teeth to dust when he found out you and Sam got back together.

**Mercedes**: Quinn, sometimes I don't know where you get this stuff

**Quinn**: One day you'll figure out the subtle things about people give away the most about them.

**Mercedes**: Subtleties

**Quinn**: Yup. For example, I could tell Finn was up to something today

**Mercedes**: You saw Finn today?

**Quinn**: Yeah, stopped by your house

**Mercedes**: How did he know you were here?

**Quinn**: He didn't. He said he had come to see Sam.

**Mercedes**: Why would Sam be at my house so early in the morning?

**Quinn**: I told him he could wait till Sam arrived but he said no.

**Mercedes**: Well, that doesn't seem so odd.

**Quinn**: He asked about you. Just once. He had been going on and on about football, and right before he left he asked about you.

**Mercedes**: What did he say?

**Quinn**: He scratched the back of his neck, as if to seem casual and asked if the police found anything new in your case.

**Mercedes**: Maybe he's just curious.

**Quinn**: Yeah well I'm curious as to why he's curious.

**Mercedes**: {laughing} Damn, you may be a cop like your dad afterall.

**Quinn**: …I saw your letter from Dave.

**Mercedes**: Yeah…Shelby dropped it off today.

**Quinn**: …What did he want?

**Mercedes**: …He said he was sorry. He said he thinks about that day in the cabin every day. You know… I think about it too.

**Quinn**: …Don't worry about it. Dave is going to prison for a long time.

**Mercedes**: …He's just a kid Quinn. He's not even eighteen.

**Quinn**: You don't feel sorry for him do you?

**Mercedes**: No…maybe a little. I don't know.

* * *

Mercedes lay in her bed with her eyes wide open.

She heard a pebble hit her window.

She rolled her eyes.

No way was Sam at her window trying to get some.

Mercedes got out of bed and crept towards the window.

She was surprised to see Kurt standing there.

Mercedes put on her robe, before going downstairs.

When Mercedes got outside, Kurt was blowing on his hands.

"…What're you doing here Kurt," Mercedes asked, folding her arms.

"My dad never made it home. Apparently, there was snowstorm in D.C.," Kurt said casually.

Mercedes said nothing.

"Look…I'm not used to this," Kurt began.

"Used to what?" Mercedes said.

"Apologizing," said Kurt.

"Oh, so that's what this is." Mercedes said, not impressed in the least.

"I called Brittany and broke it off with her," Kurt said.

"Was she mad?" Mercedes asked.

"She was a little sad. She said her parents would be much relieved that she wasn't dating a black boy anymore though," said Kurt.

Mercedes half-smiled a little.

Kurt looked at Mercedes, who started to shiver in the cold.

"Mercedes…I'm sorry. Being a boy who's attracted to other boys has always made me feel different, but now I see that I can be just as big of an asshole as any other rich jerk," Kurt said.

"Yeah, you can," Mercedes said.

"I don't want to be your price anymore," Kurt said.

Mercedes exhaled.

"It's too late. You are my kryptonite Kurt. And I'm starting to realize you'll always be," she told him.

Kurt pulled Mercedes into a hug.

"Thank you for not letting me bury myself," Kurt whispered to her.

Kurt planted a kiss on Mercedes' cheek.

Mercedes moved away.

"It's not over you know," Mercedes said. "You don't know when Sebastian will be back."

"Let's not worry about him," Kurt said.

"And what about Karofsky?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt shook his head.

"I want to believe you about him," Kurt said. "But…I can't imagine anyone else being responsible."

"I want to see him Kurt. I need to know that I'm right about this," Mercedes said.

* * *

It was Saturday morning.

David finished writing his letter to his dad.

He dropped it off at the mail room in the county jail.

He was about to head back to his cell, when the warden stopped him.

"You got a visitor Karofsky," he said.

Karofsky could feel his spirit rise.

He had written a letter to Mercedes Jones asking for her forgiveness. She of course had every right to hate him. If not for Sam and his father, Karofsky might have killed her. And yet, she was the only honest person Karofsky could think of, the only person he could trust.

Karofsky made it down to the visitor's room.

He stopped when he noticed who it was.

"Hudson, what're you doing here?" Dave said.

Finn turned around.

"We gotta talk," Finn said.

**To be continued…**


	16. Chapter 16

**New Directions: Lima, Ohio 1965 part 16**

**[sorry for taking forever on this one. School got heavy. Hope you enjoy]**

Stevie and Mercedes shared their popcorn in the movie theater.

Sam sat grumpily on the other side of Stacy, watching Mercedes eat with his little brother.

Sam's parents agreed he and Mercedes could go out on a date, but he could not leave Stevie and Stacy at home alone.

Mercedes looked over at Sam who had a sleepy Stacy on his shoulder.

Sam caught her eye and decided to lean in to get a kiss.

Stevie spotted Sam's head swooping down, and stuck his face between the couple.

He wiped the side of his cheek where Sam kissed him and smiled deviously at him.

Mercedes chuckled out loud.

"Would you be quiet please?!" a boy asked behind them. "This isn't even a funny part."

"You got a problem punk?" Sam asked turning around.

"Leave him alone Sam," Mercedes said. "Just watch the movie."

"You heard your girlfriend. Watch the movie Sam," the boy said.

His friends laughed.

The boy looked like he was in high school. He wasn't particularly big but he had five friends with him, who all seemed entertained at the idea of harassing this odd couple in front of them. They all were wearing letterman jackets from Trinity High.

Mercedes gave Sam the look to calm down.

The same boy behind Mercedes, started touching her hair.

Mercedes pulled her hair over her shoulder, so the guy would leave it alone.

The boy leaned in to the side of Mercedes' chair.

"So, is it true you'll give it to any white boy?" he whispered.

Mercedes didn't respond.

"Beat it ass breath!" Stevie said, who had heard him.

The boy and his friends ooohhhhed.

"Mind your business pipsqueak," the guy said.

"Ignore him Stevie," Mercedes said, taking his hand. "Watch the movie."

The guy laughed, leaning into Mercedes again.

"Hey, sweetheart. How bout you and me ditch this movie and do our own thing. We could play kidnapper and hostage. I heard you like that game."

Sam reached over Stacy and Stevie, grabbing the guy by his jacket collar.

His friends jumped out of their seats, ready to fight Sam.

Mercedes' heart was pounding out of her chest.

"Is there a problem?!"

The theater usher arrived in front of the two rows. He flashed his light on the party.

Sam let go of the guy's collar.

"No problem sir. Just trying to watch the movie," The guy said, adjusting his jacket.

"Sit back down or leave," the usher said.

All the boys behind Mercedes took their seats.

Everyone sat still as the usher left.

"I'm seeing you after the movie," the guy said.

"Can't wait," Sam replied.

"I want to go," Mercedes said, getting up.

"Mercedes," Sam said.

"We're leaving, Sam. You can stay if you want, but I'm taking Stevie and Stacy home," Mercedes told him.

Sam reluctantly followed his girlfriend out with his siblings.

* * *

Mercedes walked through the halls with Santana.

When the two passed the music room where Mercedes used to tutor Artie, Mercedes got notably tenser.

"You're not still gloomy over Jerk McCripples are you?" Santana said.

"No one's thinking of him," Mercedes said.

"Uh huh," Santana said while rolling her eyes.

Santana and Mercedes turned the corner, reaching Santana's locker.

"You and Sam do the nasty yet?" Santana asked.

Mercedes scoffed.

"None of your business," she replied.

"Okay, well that's a no," Santana said. "You need to give him some before some other girl snatches him up," said Santana.

"The whole school thinks I'm a slut anyway for dating a white boy so I might as well," Mercedes said glumly.

"Anyway, the hearing is in two days so you have bigger things to worry about," Santana said, opening her locker.

"Gee thanks," Mercedes said halfheartedly.

"You written that affidavit yet," Santana asked.

"No. Worst off, Shelby said I'm going to have to testify in court," Mercedes said.

"At least you know Karofsky will be rotting in jail for what he did." Santana told her.

"…Yeah," Mercedes said.

"I'm so dreading practice today," Santana admitted. "Her royal highness Miss Berry has turned it up three notches on the ego scale ever since this solo with Jesse St. James got brought up."

"You're just mad cause you want to sing with Jesse," Mercedes said.

"I would have that fool singing two octaves higher by the time I'm done with him," Santana said, flipping her hair.

Mercedes laughed for the first time all day.

* * *

Kurt quickly read over Blaine's newest letter before stuffing it in his locker.

"Hey Kurt!"

"Oh hey Finn," Kurt said, putting on a smile, when Finn reached his locker.

"How'd you do on the trig test?" Finn asked.

"I'll be lucky if I made a C," Kurt admitted.

Finn laughed.

"Geese, if I managed a C, my mom would cry tears of joy," Finn said.

Kurt laughed.

"Hey, maybe we should hang after choir practice," said Finn.

"Really? You wanna hang out with me?" Kurt said, not expecting this.

"Yeah, maybe you could help me get a C in trig," Finn said coolly.

"Sure," Kurt said, as the two entered the cafeteria.

"Any news on the case?" Finn asked.

…

* * *

Sam rubbed his eyebrow

"Did you hear me?"

"Hm…what"

"…Sam, you're failing," the coach repeated.

"Come on coach"

"I don't want to hear it Evans!" the coach exclaimed. "We playing Trinity next week and you're on academic suspension!"

"What?!" Sam said. "Can't you talk to my teachers?"

"I already tried Evans," said Coach. "But they've already been taking it easy on you for two years. Now it's time to step up. Colleges won't even look at you without a C average."

"…Well maybe college isn't for me then," Sam said, conceding defeat.

"Shut your mouth! I already got your ass a tutor. Smartest kid in the school too."

"Who?"

* * *

Mercedes was called over the intercom to go to room 212.

When she made to the upstairs classroom, Principal Figgins and four other men she didn't recognize were waiting for her.

"Well I'll leave you to it," Mr. Figgins said, passing Mercedes on the way out. He closed the door behind him. Mercedes slowly turned her head to the four gentlemen who were all dressed in business suits. They were all tall, three black, and one white. The white man and the black man standing in the front with a pin-striped suit were smoking silently.

"Miss. Jones… do you know who we are?" the man asked, while putting out his cigarette on a nearby desk.

"…You're lawyers," Mercedes said.

The man smiled.

"They said you were a smart kid," said the lawyer coolly.

Mercedes continued to hold her books to her chest.

"We're from the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People," he said.

"The NAACP?" said Mercedes. "What do you want with me?"

The man leaned on the teacher's desk.

"Your case is a very delicate one Mercedes. In the week coming, all of America's eyes will be on this town and you. We're here to make sure everything runs smoothly."

"…Why," Mercedes asked.

The man smiled.

"You're a public figure we would like to invest in; a smart, young, black woman who has been mistreated by a flawed system of government and community. A lot of people want to see you succeed. The conviction of David Karofsky will send a wave throughout this country; a message clearly stating that times are changing for negroes, and that justice for a black person is as important for that of a white person. We can help you achieve this."

Mercedes shook her head.

"I thought the school board was the petitioner of the case. What about all the other SCRO members who were in the fire?"

"They're case will still be heard in court. But yours will be handled separately due to it's extreme importance. The school board happily obliged to hand over your case to us. And believe me, we are the best," said another lawyer.

"…Don't I get to decide who will represent me?" Mercedes said.

"Of course," the white lawyer answered. "But we are less likely to take advantage of you. The media can be vultures, and we can provide safety for you in the court and for your image."

"My image?' said Mercedes.

"Just certain things you may need a critique on." The lawyer leaning on the teacher's desk said. "We know you're on the honor roll and attend church every week. But there are still some things that need to be tweaked."

"Like what?"

The lawyer smiled, handing Mercedes a business card.

"Here's my number. Call us anytime. We'll have to get started on the depositions soon."

* * *

"Hell no."

"You don't really have a choice dude," said Puck.

Sam and the others sat in the cafeteria. Sam mulled over the fact that Artie was his new tutor.

"That kid is an asshole! And he's got a hidden agenda," Sam said.

"It's either him or you miss the game. OH YEAH and you DON'T GRADUATE," Mike said.

"It's only for a few days Sam," said Mercedes.

"I don't care if it's five minutes! That evil mastermind has probably been plotting his revenge on me ever since I beat him up. I'd be falling into his trap."

Quinn scoffed.

"Who cares if this is a trap Sam. If someone is using you, the key is to use them right back," Quinn told Sam. "And if you fail your test, it'll be his fault, not yours."

"She's right. That's what I would do," Santana chimed in coolly.

"Women are evil," Puck said, while Mike nodded to himself.

* * *

"What are you up to?"

Mercedes stood in front of Artie, who was looking over one of his papers.

"Nice to see you too Mercedes," Artie replied.

"You hate Sam," Mercedes said. "Why would you help him pass?"

Artie smirked.

"You ever get tired of asking questions you already know the answer to?"

It was an awkward situation. Having successfully determined by Artie's kiss that he wanted her, Mercedes was wary of his intentions.

"This isn't a game Artie. Sam really needs help," Mercedes said.

"I know, and I'll help him I promise," he said.

Artie couldn't help but smile when Mercedes shook her head at him.

"I've missed you," he said.

Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"Sam likes Tolkien, so try and mesh that in with the studies," she said, deciding to change the subject.

"Tolkien? Isn't that a bit advanced for him?" said Artie.

"He's not dumb…I'm not sure what's up with him, but I do know that much," Mercedes replied before walking away.

* * *

"I can't," Kurt said.

"Why not?" Mercedes asked.

The two stood at Kurt's locker after fourth period.

"You know why."

Mercedes sighed. She closed her eyes.

"Kurt. I need to do this," Mercedes said slowly.

Kurt closed his locker.

"Ask Sam."

"You know he'll say no -"

"AND HE SHOULD!"

Kurt took Mercedes' arm leading her over to an un-occupied corner. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.

"Karofsky is dangerous, and he belongs behind bars," Kurt said.

"And if he didn't set the fire?" Mercedes asked.

"He did it. That psycho has arsonist written all over him," Kurt replied.

"Look Kurt. The notes and the fire they don't add up. Karofsky said he knows nothing about the notes in my locker and I believe him. AND Sam told me he slept with Samantha Sims sophomore year… What if she never got over it?" Mercedes asked.

"You think Samantha did it?" said Kurt. "How would she set up Karofsky?"

"I don't know… But she was on my original list. Who knows? Maybe the real culprit isn't even on the list."

"I really don't know Mercedes," Kurt said.

"Kurt please-"

"No!"

Kurt began to walk away.

"YOU OWE ME."

Kurt stopped. He wore a look of disbelief when he turned back to Mercedes.

"You heard me Kurt. You're my friend, and I never thought I'd pull this card, but the way I see it, you do owe me. I am tired of feeling like I'm the only damn person who cares about finding the truth. You will, help me. Or else."

Kurt raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"Or else what?" Kurt said, folding his arms.

Mercedes put her hands on her hips.

"Or else the next time you walk away from me…you better keep walking."

Kurt kept staring at Mercedes, attempting to see if she was bluffing. Both friends kept their stance.

"…Okay. I'll do it. I have a test in first period tomorrow and then we can leave after," said Kurt.

Mercedes smiled coolly.

"Good. See you then," Mercedes said, flipping her hair before strutting off to her next class.

Kurt watched her from behind, unsure of this new, more assertive Mercedes. Their friendship was definitely evolving. Kurt wasn't the leader anymore.

* * *

"You're early. Good," Artie said, checking his watch.

Sam closed the door behind him.

"What's your game man?" Sam asked.

Artie shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm trying not to be an asshole anymore. That's my game."

"I'm not buying it," Sam said, still not sitting down.

"Well you have to buy it, or else you get kicked off the team. And no college is going to let you in for your sweet personality," Artie told him.

"Cut the crap man. Why are you helping me?" Sam said.

Artie was getting frustrated. He could tell Sam wasn't going to let this go.

"Because… Mercedes was the only friend I had – the only friend I wanted to have. I'll do anything to get her to not hate me…even if that means helping you."

The two boys looked at each other.

"Do you have any more questions or can we get started?" Artie said, waiting for Sam.

"…Are you in love with my girlfriend." Sam asked.

Artie narrowed his eyes, unsure of what was going to happen next. Despite his fear, he decided to answer honestly.

"…Yeah. Yeah I am." Artie said quietly.

He half-expected Sam to clobber him again, but he did nothing.

Sam lifted up his chin and nodded.

"Okay. Let's do it," Sam said, taking his book bag from his shoulder.

* * *

All the New Directions members collapsed on the ground at the end of their twelve days of Christmas number.

This was the first time they added the choreography.

"Question! Why are we dancing our asses off in the back when Rachel gets to stand in the middle and belt her stupid notes?" Santana asked, rubbing her back.

"I'm the featured artist of the New Directions. It only makes sense, that I am put in the front in the group numbers," Rachel said.

"How on Earth does Vocal Adrenaline sing and dance every day without passing out?" Tina asked, as she gulped down some water Puck passed her.

"They're pre-recorded. That's how all the pros do it," Santana said.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," Kurt said, not used to perspiring.

"They pre-record some of their shows; HOWEVER, their Christmas special is always live," Rachel said.

Everyone groaned once again.

"They're not real people. They're bionic animations," Mike said.

"Don't worry guys. We'll be in shape by Christmas," Mr. Schuester said. "And I just heard back from the studio manager, and Mr. Jesse St. James has agreed to sing with Rachel."

Rachel screamed jumping up and down.

"You don't deserve that solo," Santana said under her breath but loud enough for everyone to here.

"You're jealous because Jesse chose me, » Rachel said.

«Society chose you. If Jesse heard one note from me, I'd have your spot in a second," Santana retorted.

"Santana, don't," Mercedes said.

"Stop kissing her ass!" Santana exclaimed. "I may be a bitch but at least I'm honest. That home wrecker has had her way since day one."

"At least I don't lash out every time I don't get my way," Rachel said. "And it's hypocritical for you to call me a home wrecker when everyone knows you get around."

Santana raised one eyebrow as the class went silent. An evil smirk appeared across her face. Santana turned around to Kurt.

"Kurt, who's the best singer in New Directions?" Santana asked.

" Female voice? Mercedes," Kurt said.

"Well, of course he'd say that, he's her-" Rachel began before Santana cut her off.

"Mike, who's the best singer," she asked.

"Mercedes."

"Puck, who's the best?"

"Mercedes…and Santana of course." Puck added out of fear.

"Tina, who deserves to sing with Jesse?" Santana said.

"Mercedes," Tina said.

"Sam?"

"Mercedes," Sam said.

"Mr. Schuester, out of all of us, who should be singing with Jesse St. James?" Santana asked.

Mr. Schuester remained silent.

Santana smiled, taking two steps toward Rachel.

"If you weren't a little white girl you'd be swaying in the back like the rest of us," Santana said.

Rachel burst into tears before running out of the class room.

"Santana, what's wrong with you?" Mercedes said.

"She needed to hear it," Santana said.

"You know she's a good singer though. You didn't have to do her like that," said Mercedes.

"Finn, go talk to her," Tina said.

"I can't talk to her when she's like this," Finn said.

"You're a real knight in shining armor Finn," Quinn said rolling her eyes.

"I'll go," Sam said reluctantly, getting up from the ground.

Sam found Rachel around the corner, crying by the water fountain.

"Come back Rachel. Santana didn't mean it," Sam said halfheartedly.

Rachel threw her arms around Sam's waste, crying into his shoulder.

Sam patted her on the back.

"It's okay," he said kindly.

After her a few minutes had passed, Santana went to go apologize.

Santana spotted Rachel crying onto Sam's shoulder at the end of the hallway.

She watched.

Rachel slowly stopped crying as Sam rubbed her back.

Rachel grabbed Sam's face, placing wet kiss on his lips.

Santana gasped, hiding behind the corner.

Sam took Rachel's hands, pulling her away from him with much difficulty.

"Rachel stop."

"I love you!" Rachel said.

"No you don't!" Sam said, somewhat bewildered by Rachel's hysteria.

"Yes I do! I have since sophomore year. Sam, I only got with Finn to make you jealous," Rachel pleaded.

"I know," Sam said.

Rachel sniffled as she started to calm down.

"You do?" Rachel said.

"I love Mercedes though," Sam said.

"You can't! You just met her!" Rachel exclaimed, the tears starting to come again.

"It doesn't matter. I only want her. I'm sorry," Sam said.

Rachel pushed Sam away this time.

"You're an idiot. She almost got you killed and suspended, and you still can't see what's right in front of you!" Rachel said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam said.

"She doesn't love you Sam. You can see it in her eyes, she's just waiting for a good time to give you the brush off," Rachel told him.

Sam stood crestfallen at Rachel's words.

Santana quickly headed back into the choir room before Sam saw her.

* * *

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Quinn said.

Mercedes entered her brother's room.

Both girls were already dressed for bed.

"Hey," Quinn said.

"Hi," Said Mercedes. "I just um… You wanna sleep in my room tonight?"

Quinn furrowed her brow at Mercedes then snorted when she realized she was serious.

"Sure."

…

Quinn and Mercedes lay symmetrically on Mercedes' full bed.

Both girls stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

"Do you think I'm a bad girlfriend?"

Quinn turned her head to Mercedes.

"What kind of question is that?"

Mercedes exhaled.

"…I looked Sam right in the face and lied to him about skipping school tomorrow," she admitted.

"It's not like you're fooling around with some other guy. The lie is for his own good," Quinn said.

Mercedes shook her head.

"Or is it for my own good?"

"A little deceit is key to any successful relationship," Quinn stated.

Mercedes scoffed.

"Have you been talking to my mom?" she asked.

The two girls laughed.

"I don't want that kind of relationship with Sam. I want to tell him everything, but I…"

"You don't trust him," Quinn said.

Mercedes turned her head to Quinn. "Just because you love someone doesn't automatically mean you trust them too," Quinn explained.

Both girls rolled over to fall asleep.

"I trust Sam with my life," Mercedes said. "But sometimes… he scares me."

* * *

After first period, Mercedes and Kurt were on the road to the County jail.

"You didn't tell Sam did you," Kurt said.

Kurt drove sixty miles an hour on the highway, while Mercedes sat in the passenger seat.

**Mercedes**: I…considered it.

**Kurt**: Yeah, that'd be a no then.

**Mercedes**: Never mind Kurt

**Kurt**: …You know you have a tell when you lie

**Mercedes**: I do not.

**Kurt**: yeah you nod your head really fast even if your answer is no.

**Mercedes**: You know how I know you're lying?

**Kurt**: How?

**Mercedes**: When you open your mouth.

**Kurt**: Ha Ha, funny. Still doesn't change the fact that you're afraid of your own boyfriend.

Kurt took the exit leading into Dayton.

"This shouldn't take too long," Mercedes said.

"I actually was going to let you go see Karofsky by yourself….I have to pick up something," Kurt said.

"What could you possibly need in Dayton?" Mercedes asked.

"…hair gel," Kurt said.

"Uh huh," said Mercedes, not bothering to call Kurt out on his lies.

* * *

Sam tossed the book across the room for the third and final time.

Artie, becoming frustrated, took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

"This is hopeless," Sam said.

"You're not even trying," Artie told Sam.

"I am," Sam said.

Artie rolled over to where the book landed. He picked it up.

"Be honest with me Sam…Can you read?" Artie asked.

"…Are you trying to get punched?" Sam asked. "I can read. It's just difficult."

"Spell volcano," Artie said.

Sam scoffed.

"V-O-L-C-A-N-O"

"Right," Artie said. "Spell orangutan."

"Like the monkey? O-R-AN-G um U-T-A-N. Is that right?" Sam asked.

"…I think so," Artie said. "Now spell hour."

Sam squinted his eyes.

"Our? Are? What are you saying?" Sam said.

"Hour. Like an hour has passed since we started reading," Artie said.

Sam scratched the back of his head. He closed his eyes to think about it.

"Here, write it down," Artie said handing him pen and paper.

Sam started to write an O and then a W, but could not process the rest for some reason.

"I can't," he said.

"Holy shit." Artie breathed

* * *

Kurt knocked on red apartment door.

He heard some shuffling around.

A shirtless Blaine opened the door.

"Kurt?" Blaine said.

The two boys embraced.

When Kurt let go, Blaine still wore a look of shock on his face.

"What're you doing here?" he asked, while still blocking the way in.

"I came to Dayton with Mercedes, and I thought I'd come see you," Kurt said.

"I can't believe you're here," Blaine said excitedly.

Kurt stood in the cold hallway, blowing on his hands.

"I'd let you in, but it's a total mess. Sheet music everywhere," Blaine said with a smile.

"We could get some hot chocolate at the café down the street," Kurt suggested.

"That sounds great…Let me just get changed," Blaine said, closing the door.

Kurt heard Blaine fumble around again for half a minute, before he came out with his coat and scarf. He locked the door behind him.

"Okay, let's go," he said, leading Kurt downstairs.

* * *

Mercedes sat in a dimly lit room in the prison.

The ceiling fan hummed loudly above the metal table. The door buzzed, and Dave Karofsky came out, escorted by an ornery-looking security guard.

Except for a cut above his eye and a shorter haircut, Karofsky looked about the same to Mercedes.

On his arm was a black swastika.

Dave sat down in front of Mercedes. He guard removed his handcuffs. Karofsky rubbed his wrists.

He timidly looked up at Mercedes.

"Thanks for seeing me," he said.

Mercedes nodded towards Karofsky's arm.

"Nice tattoo," Mercedes said.

"It's for protection. If you don't join gang in here, you get jumped at night," Karofsky told her.

Mercedes shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Um I got a lawyer," Dave said. "My dad says he's really good."

"So you plan to go to trial then," Mercedes said.

"I'm innocent…well at least for the fire." Dave added.

"You were blacked out. How would you even know if you didn't set the fire?" Mercedes asked him.

"Some things are coming back to me. The Molotov cocktail I had in my hand; when the smoke woke me up, it was gone."

"Did you ask your friends about it?"

"I have no friends. They ratted me out remember," Dave said.

Mercedes checked the clock on the wall.

"I need your help," Dave said.

Mercedes raised her brow.

"You need MY help?"

"If the bottle is still there, then it couldn't have been me who set it."

"You should tell your lawyer this. Not me," Mercedes said.

"He thinks I'm guilty. Even my father thinks I did it. That's why he paid the city to revoke the police warrant to search the debris," Karofsky confessed.

Mercedes shook her head.

"Kurt was right. You deserve to be locked up," she said. "…You tried to kill me."

Dave's eyes started to water.

"I know what I did was wrong; I was scared. But I'm seventeen. I can change. I've already changed. At least I deserve to be around people my own age. If I'm found guilty, they'll put me away for life with men twice my age. I won't last two days."

"Let me see your hands."

"…what?"

"I said let me see your hands," Mercedes repeated. Dave cautiously held out his hands on the table. The security guard slowly touched his gun, as Mercedes place her hand's on Karofsky's. She turned them over. There were some new scratches and scrapes, but they remained pale with no visible burns. Mercedes moved her hands away from Dave's.

"…Okay. I'll see what I can do."

"Time's up!" the guard called. Mercedes got up from the table. "Make sure you sign out at the front," the guard told her before carrying Dave away.

Mercedes walked to the front where a dusty guest book was laid out open with a pen attached to it. Mercedes wrote her name and the date. Her eyes scaled the names in the book, until a familiar one caught her attention. "Finn," Mercedes said.

* * *

"I still can't believe you're in front of me," Blaine said, resisting the temptation to grab Kurt's hand across the table in the café.

"Me neither," Kurt said.

Blaine started to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Kurt asked.

"Don't look now, but there's a hot coed staring at you."

Kurt turned around.

A brunette wearing a plaid mini skirt and a tight red sweater waved at him seductively before sipping her cup of tea.

Kurt whistled.

"Wow, I can smell daddy issues on that one," Kurt said.

"She must think you're in college since the high school haven't gotten out yet," Blaine said. "You should go talk to her."

"Why, even if I liked girls, she's still not my type," Kurt said.

"Yeah, but seeing you try to flirt with her would be a turn-on for me," Blaine said.

"That sounds like something Sebastian would say," Kurt said.

Blaine coughed, putting down his mug.

"Does it?" he asked innocently.

Kurt laughed.

"Just messing with you," Kurt said. "Let's go back to your place."

Blaine's expression immediately changed. Blaine checked his watch.

"Ah, damn. I have to teach a piano lesson. I'm actually already late," Blaine said while putting on his jacket.

"Oh," Kurt said following him out the restaurant. "Its fine, I have to pick up Mercedes soon anyway," Kurt said.

"I'm really sorry about this Kurt," Blaine said, blowing on his hands.

The two walked to Kurt's car parked in an empty alleyway.

"I shouldn't have dropped by unexpected like this. I just-"

Blaine looked over his shoulder before kissing Kurt passionately.

"I never realized how much you mean to me till I saw you again Kurt. I'm going to make this work I promise," Blaine said.

Kurt stood speechless as Blaine put his jacket hood over his head and hurried off.

* * *

"So how'd tutoring go?" Puck asked.

"Great, turns out I'm retarded," Sam said blatantly.

"Damn," Puck said.

Sam parked his car at the edge of the Trinity ball park.

Five of the boys from the movie theatre were across the street, walking to their cars.

"There they are," Sam said, opening the door.

Puck picked up the bat from the bottom of the car.

All three boys got out of the car.

Sam, Puck, and Mike walked coolly over to the other guys.

"Hey! Remember me?" Sam asked the Trinity boy.

"You-"

The Trinity boys didn't get a word in before Sam threw the first punch.

Puck and Mike jumped in, easily stomping the five football players.

"And don't even think about ratting on us, or everybody is going to know you got beat by three McKinley players and there's five of you bitches," Puck said.

Sam took the bat from Puck. He lifted it over his head like he was going to smash the leader's face in. The boy winced when Sam let the bat fall, stopping an inch from the boy's face.

"You talk to my girl again, and I'll kill you," Sam said.

He, Mike and Puck walked away.

The Trinity boys remained whimpering on the ground.

"You scare me sometimes," Mike said to Sam as they got back into the car.

* * *

Mercedes and Kurt were back on the highway by three o'clock.

"Did you get what you wanted?" Kurt asked her.

"More than I wanted," Mercedes replied. "Hey, you and Santana went to Roosevelt the night Karofsky kidnapped me?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"...Did you see anything weird? Like a Molotov cocktail."

"What the heck is that?" Kurt asked.

"It's what those war-mongering jerks throw through black store shops. It's usually a liquor bottle but it's usually filled with lighter fluid like kerosene. Karofsky said he had one in his hand before he blacked out."

Kurt thought. The memory of Santana finding the still full bottle in the school debris entered his head.

"What about it?" Kurt asked.

"Well, if the bottle never broke, then Karofsky didn't start the fire, and he was probably set up," Mercedes said.

"And they'll let him out of jail?" Kurt said.

"Maybe. Did you or Santana see anything?" Mercedes asked.

"…No," Kurt said.

"…Okay. So…where did you go today?" Mercedes said.

"I told you already," Kurt replied.

"Oh right, you wanted to pick up hair tweezers," Mercedes said.

"Right," Kurt said.

"Wrong. You said originally you were going to get hair gel," said Mercedes.

"Yeah well I-"

"Blaine lives in Dayton doesn't he," said Mercedes.

Mercedes threw her hands up in disbelief.

"You're not still writing him are you?" Mercedes asked.

"And?" Kurt said.

Mercedes rubbed her eyebrow.

"Kurt, Sebastian has already marked Blaine as his. You do not want to get in the middle of that. The guy is very territorial," Mercedes explained.

"He's in boarding school in Europe!" Kurt said.

"He won't be there forever. He knows your secret," Mercedes said.

"He can't prove shit okay. Blaine and I have been very careful," Kurt said.

"…Well, maybe just to be safe, you should ask Blaine to burn the letters," Mercedes suggested.

Kurt scoffed.

"Oh my god, the letters are safe. Blaine is not irresponsible. He knows my dad is congressman, and what could go wrong if those letters were exposed. He has them locked away so no one can find them."

"You sure?" Mercedes asked

"Yes!" Kurt said. "Have a little faith!"

"Alright then," Mercedes said, ending the conversation end there.

* * *

It was the next day.

"Sam has a reading disorder called Dyslexia," Artie said.

"Are you sure?" Mercedes asked.

"Positive. I had the Librarian give him an old test. He's got all the symptoms. His brain jumbles up letters even words. I asked him to spell a few for me. Words especially difficult for him were ones he couldn't put a picture too. It's actually quite fascinating.

"Dyslexia…This is great news," Mercedes said.

"Sam doesn't think so," Artie told her. "When I told him there was no cure, he gave up on trying to study."

"I'll talk to him," Mercedes said.

Artie led her to the music room, where Sam was sulking and refusing to study.

Artie remained by the door, giving Mercedes and Sam some privacy.

"Why aren't you studying?" Mercedes asked.

"No point," Sam said, sitting on the bleachers at the end of the room.

"Artie told me," Mercedes said.

"Yeah, well did he tell you I'm not going to grow out of it? I'm retarded MJ," said Sam.

Mercedes smiled placing her hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam played glumly with the brim of Mercedes' skirt.

"Dyslexia doesn't mean you're retarded. It means you're an artist," Mercedes said.

Sam looked up at her.

"What?"

Mercedes sat on Sam's lap.

She placed her hands on either side of Sam's head.

"You're right-brained. Do you know what that means?"

Sam shook his head.

Mercedes kissed the top of his head.

"It means you learn creatively. Just like Da Vinci, and Muhammed Ali, and even John Lennon," she said.

"John Lennon from the Beatles has dyslexia?" Sam said.

Mercedes laughed.

"Yep. I'm sorry Sam, but this dyslexia just means you're doomed for greatness," Mercedes said.

Sam smiled.

He touched the side of Mercedes' face.

"So I'm not slow," Sam said.

"If you are, so is Albert Einstein," Mercedes said.

"Well his hair is a little suspect," Sam said.

Mercedes laughed as Sam rubbed her back.

Artie quietly left the room, giving Mercedes and Sam some privacy.

"I guess this means you have less of a reason to break up with me now," Sam said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mercedes asked.

**Sam**: You've been drifting away from me.

**Mercedes**: And you think it's because of this?

**Sam**: I think your dad's words finally got you. I think you've been contemplating how long we may actually last. Let's face it. My grades are shit. I got no chance at going pro football. If I'm lucky I'll drive a truck like my dad.

**Mercedes**: You're being silly.

**Sam**: Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you haven't been keeping stuff from me. Tell me you haven't been confiding in Kurt or Quinn instead of me. Tell me you haven't been having second thoughts.

**Mercedes**: It's not what it seems.

**Sam**: Explain to me.

Mercedes shook her head.

"Sam.."

"Just tell me," Sam said.

Mercedes closed her eyes.

"You're right," she said. "…I have been having second thoughts. But not why you think."

Mercedes moved from Sam's lap, taking a seat across from him on the bleachers.

"…It's not easy being your girlfriend Sam, and I've never complained about it. But you're unpredictable and volatile, and I don't know if you can keep going the way you're going. There are assholes everywhere and you want to fight them all. Sometimes I have nightmares that one day you pick a fight you can't win and you get killed, and I wake up screaming."

"I…I didn't know it bothered you that much," Sam said honestly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I did," Mercedes said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"I wasn't listening," Sam said.

"It seems pointless to get close to you if you have a death wish," said Mercedes. "I love you Sam, but I'm not going to be your widow."

Sam took Mercedes' hand.

"I promise to stop fighting," Sam said.

"And drinking," Mercedes said.

"I don't have a drinking problem," Sam began.

"I know you drink when you're upset which is already a bad habit," Mercedes told him.

"Okay, no more drinking too," Sam said.

"I'm serious Sam. I hear you've gotten into one more fight, it's over," Mercedes said.

"I know. I promise I'm done with all that," Sam said.

Mercedes felt instantly more relieved.

The two kissed the embraced.

Sam held Mercedes, his heart raced thinking about what just had done to those boys at Trinity.

He was beginning to realize that every mistake, even if it had nothing to do with Mercedes, would end up hurting her.

* * *

Blaine brought a tray of food into his bedroom where Sebastian slept.

Sebastian opened his eyes and yawned.

"Breakfast in bed at night. How romantic," Sebastian said in jest.

Blaine smiled politely as Sebastian bit into the toast.

"Come to bed," Sebastian said.

"…I can't do this Sebastian," Blaine said.

"Nonsense, you don't have any piano lessons tonight. You can relax," Sebastian said with his mouth full.

"No, I mean I can't… let you stay here anymore," Blaine said cautiously.

Sebastian swallowed his toast in discomfort.

"You can't be serious," he said.

Blaine's silence answered Sebastian's question.

For the second time in their whole relationship, Blaine saw a genuine look of disappointment on Sebastian's face.

"Where will I go?" Sebastian said.

"Back to your family. I'm pretty sure they've forgiven you by now," Blaine replied.

Sebastian sat up in the bed revealing his bare chest.

"There's someone else isn't there," Sebastian said.

"No. I'm doing this for me," Blaine said. "I can't move on with my life with you here."

Sebastian moved the blanket, getting up from Blaine's bed.

He picked up his shirt from the ground, putting over his head.

"…You don't have to leave tonight," Blaine began.

"I have some friends in Cincinnati. Surely they'll let me bum off them," Sebastian said, picking up his pants.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way," Blaine said. "I know you don't like to show it, but you're good person deep, deep, way deep down inside."

Sebastian smirked.

"I'll give you some privacy to get changed," Blaine told him, getting up from the side of the bed.

Sebastian took his hand.

He pulled Blaine in gently for a kiss.

Blaine opened his eyes slowly as Sebastian let go of his hand.

"Whoever he is…He's a lucky man," Sebastian said.

Blaine smiled before closing the door behind him, leaving Sebastian alone in his room.

Sebastian's smiled immediately faded.

* * *

"Finn, what're you doing here?" Sam asked.

Finn, for the first time in a long while, was at Sam's house.

The two boys sat on the porch.

"I heard you picked a fight with the Trinity players," Finn said.

"You can't believe everything you hear," Sam said.

Finn rolled his eyes.

"This is going to have repercussions on the team," he said. "I swear, ever since you started dating Mer-"

"Don't start man," Sam said.

"What're you going to do? Beat me up too?" Finn asked.

Sam shook his head.

"MJ says I can't fight anymore," Sam said. "Which I shouldn't be."

"You think you can change?" Finn asked.

"I'm going to try. Unlike you, who'll probably remain selfish till the day you die," Sam said.

Finn got up from the porch, walking back down to his truck.

"What if I told you, I saved your girlfriend's life once?" Finn said.

Sam smirked.

"I'd say you were dreaming because that's not you," Sam said.

Finn nodded his head, getting back into his truck.

Sam waited on the porch till Finn drove off.

When Finn pressed his breaks for the stop sign at the end of the road, the kerosene-filled bottle from the fire rolled from under the passenger seat.

* * *

Blaine finished drying the dishes in his sink.

He went by the window, where his record player had started skipping his Drifters album.

Blaine picked up the needle, taking the album off.

He looked in the bottom shelf for other records to play.

He saw a record that reminded him of Kurt and instantly picked it up.

He placed it on the payer, putting the needle back on.

The room filled with the voice of Billie Holiday and a smile instantly appeared on his face.

Now, Blaine thought, would be a good time to re-read Kurt's letters.

Blaine went into his bedroom. He looked in his sock drawer for the letters.

The sock drawer was empty.

Blaine panicked, pulling the drawer out.

He pulled out his desk drawer. He quickly sifted through the mess, but the letters were gone.

**To be continued…**


	17. Chapter 17

**New Directions: Lima, Ohio 1965 part 17**

**[sooooo sorry it took me so long to update! Hope you guys enjoy this. I'll be sure to update sooner next time J]**

**SEPTEMBER 12, 1965; THE DAY OF THE FIRE**

"Fuck those coloreds man," one football player said, passing Karofsky the matches.

Karofsky and three other football players rode in a truck to Roosevelt High School.

"This'll teach them to beat us at football," Karofsky chimed in.

"…What if the school's not empty?" Finn asked, obviously nervous.

"Those monkeys will run out if they know what's good for them. And screw the rest who don't," Karofsky said.

Finn knew for a fact that Sam's girlfriend was having meetings in the basement with other students, and yet he could not find the courage to get out of the truck.

He was the captain and he could not control his team.

Karofsky had corrupted the other players into a frenzy of hate even though Karofsky himself was having second thoughts about the whole thing, unbeknownst to Finn.

Finn continued to sit quietly, unsure of what he would do.

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

Mercedes rolled over when she heard dishes clinging in the kitchen. She lifted up her head to look at her desk clock.

6:30am.

Her parents were usually on their way to work by now. Mercedes heard the noise again.

"Quinn! Is that you?!" Mercedes called.

There was no answer.

Realizing something was going on, Mercedes rolled out of bed.

She put on her robe.

As she quietly snuck downstairs, she could hear strange voices coming from the kitchen.

Mercedes slowly pushed the swinging door.

Two police officers were helping themselves to coffee. They stopped when they saw Mercedes. One of the officers had a donut suspended from his open mouth.

"Good morning," one of them said.

Mercedes backed up a little and looked around just to make sure she was in the right house.

"What's going on?" Mercedes asked, still unsure if she was actually awake.

The officer removed the donut from his mouth.

"We're here to escort you to school," he said.

"Escort me? …Hold on for a minute."

Mercedes backed out of the kitchen and went to the nearest phone. She dialed Shelby's number.

She didn't bother giving her a chance to say 'hello'.

"Why are there cops in my house?" Mercedes asked.

"Oh! The police chief ordered two officers to escort you to school. Regular protocol for this situation," Shelby said.

"What situation?" Mercedes asked.

Shelby went silent on the other line.

"…Have you been watching the news?" Shelby asked.

Mercedes put down the phone and slowly walked to the living room.

She turned on the TV and turned it to channel 2.

A TV newscaster was talking front of the court room.

**_"Although this is the first time Lima's McKinley Titans have made it to regionals, all eyes are turned on the landmark Jones v. Karofsky trial that starts today. Jones, a17 year-negro girl, was taken by David Karofsky last month after the police charged him with arson of the black high school, Roosevelt on East Jefferson."_**

Mercedes turned off the TV.

She went to the window, when she opened it, she overwhelmed by the many camera's flashing on her front porch.

"No no no no!" Mercedes exclaimed.

Mercedes picked up the phone.

"WHAT ON EARTH!" she said.

"Calm down. Officer Roberts and Harrison will get you to school safe and sound," Shelby said.

Mercedes resisted shouting, understanding that this wasn't Detective Corcoran's fault, and that she was just trying to help out in this crazy situation.

"Okay. Thanks," Mercedes said.

"I'll see you at the depositions after school okay?" Shelby said.

"Alright."

Mercedes hung up the phone.

She looked at the clock on the wall then went upstairs to get dressed for first period.

* * *

Outside of McKinley High, students were getting stopped and interviewed about the upcoming case.

Mercedes felt a lot more eyes on her than usual in school and did her best to ignore them. But Mercedes couldn't help but roll her eyes when she saw Samantha Sims being interviewed.

"It's a fact that Mercedes Jones seduced Dave Karofsky as well as Sam Evans. She has no self-respect," Mercedes heard Samantha say to a reporter.

Mercedes stood at the door of her first period. Her ears burned at the possible gossip being exchanged between her classmates. Her suspicions were confirmed when she entered the room and it went instantly silent.

Mercedes took her seat in the back next to Tina. Tina looked at Mercedes as if she was going to attempt to say something comforting but then changed her mind. Both girls put on their glasses and started taking notes.

* * *

"Heads up!"

Sam ducked before the football hit his head.

"Yo! You almost decapitated me!" Sam said.

Sam sat on the bench during morning practice.

"What is that?" Puck asked, looking at the journal in Sam's hand.

"Poetry," Sam said.

"Damn, if you really want sex that badly-"

"It's not for sex dickhead! I'm trying to learn how to express myself with words thank you very much!" Sam said throwing his pencil at Puckerman.

"Let me see," Puck said, snatching the journal away from Sam.

"Your spelling is shit," Puck said.

"I'm aware," Sam said, trying to grab his notebook back.

Puck stopped smiling when he read more of Sam's work.

"…Hey…this is really good. You going to let MJ read it?"

"… She's got a lot on her plate. This stupid case…I think it's finally getting to her," Sam said

"It's MJ. She's tough as nails," Puck said.

"Yeah, but it's hard to keep your chin up when the whole town is gossiping about you. And what am I supposed to do? I can't stop it, and I can't protect her from hearing it."

"Maybe she doesn't need you to protect her," Puck said. "I think your being there for her is enough."

"I can't sit and do nothing. It's not me," Sam said.

* * *

"Hey tramp."

Rachel passed Santana in the hallway to get to her class.

She rolled her eyes when she heard Santana's voice.

"Are you referring to me?" Rachel asked, who kept walking.

Santana walked to keep up with her.

"Of course I am. You're the one kissing other people's boyfriends," Santana replied.

"I'm not afraid of you Santana. Nor am I intimidated by Sam's pathetic excuse of a girlfriend," Rachel said.

Santana snatched Rachel by her collar, ramming her into the locker. She grabbed Rachel by the jaw so she couldn't talk.

"Everybody's dismissed you as this preppy, poodle-skirt wearing dweeb, but I see you for the little freak that you are. I can't prove anything yet, but I'm positive you've been going out of your way to terrorize Mercedes just to get your grubby hands on Sam, but that shit won't fly anymore. I. Am. Watching. You."

Santana let go of Rachel's mouth.

She walked to class leaving Rachel alone to gather herself.

When Mercedes got out of second period she found the word "SLUT" written on her locker.

Mercedes ignored it, but when her hand went to her lock, it started to shake.

Mercedes could hear someone laughing behind her.

"What's wrong whore? Just open it," Samantha Sims said, with two other girls giggling behind her.

Mercedes took a step toward Samantha.

"Mercedes, are you okay?"

Artie appeared behind the corner.

"God, are you sleeping with the cripple kid too?" Samantha said.

"You should watch who you're calling cripple Sims. I remember in fifth grade everyone made fun of you because you were bowlegged and had a hunchback. Everyone called your ass Quasimodo. But you seemed to have straightened out; probably because you spend so many extracurricular activities lying on your back." Artie told her.

Samantha and the other two girls walked away.

"You didn't have to do that," Mercedes said.

"It's no problem. I like standing up for you," Artie said.

"Yeah, well thanks," Mercedes said politely, before turning away.

"Mercedes wait," Artie said.

Artie took Mercedes' hand.

"Sam's busy with regionals…but I want you to know I'm here," Artie said.

Mercedes slowly took her hand back.

"Bye, Artie."

* * *

"Alright, you ready for the depositions?"

Mercedes sat in an empty classroom with the NAACP lawyers.

"…I think so," Mercedes said.

"We just have to go over a few things. Your image has taken a hit recently," Mr. Baker, the head attorney said.

"I know. They're all lies though," Mercedes told him.

"We know. Of course, of course. But still, we must clean house before trial starts," Baker, handing Mercedes a document.

"What is this?" Mercedes asked, scanning the page.

"It's a statement we want you to give to the press tomorrow, just straightening out some nasty rumors."

"You want me to say this?" Mercedes asked.

"What's wrong with it?" one of the other attorneys asked.

"What wrong with it? Well, first off I'm apologizing for my behavior. Excuse me for trying to save my own life. In this second paragraph, it talks about how Samuel Evans misconstrued my kindness for attraction and how I'm grateful for him for saving my life, but our relationship goes no further than that. This isn't even true. Sam and I are seeing each other." Mercedes said.

"It's better for this case and you, if you neutralized that relationship," Baker said. "At least until after the hearing."

"You're kidding," Mercedes said. "…You don't even know Sam."

"We know he's white, which automatically puts you in a bad light," said the only white attorney. "Hey, we get it. It's the sixties and times are changing, but fact remains what you and Sam are doing is still illegal in most of the country."

Mercedes could feel her temper rising.

"Really? And what, pray tell, are we 'doing' that is illegal in most of this country?" Mercedes asked, knowing full well what the attorneys were suggesting.

"We mean no disrespect," Baker stated. "It's our job to think like the rest of the country; to think like the jury is going to think when they see you next to a blonde-haired blue-eyed football star."

Mercedes exhaled, as she could feel a headache coming on.

"He may be some football star-liability to you, but he is my actual boyfriend. This is not an affair. We go to church together! Our families had Thanksgiving at my house for goodness sakes! And you want me to throw him away because you guys can't seem to win this case without me lying?"

"We're here to help," Baker said.

"I know and I appreciate it," Mercedes said, "But I'm still not saying that spee-"

Mercedes stopped mid-sentence. She got up and went to the door.

She opened it.

She saw the familiar face walk behind the corner. Mercedes darted through the crowd, trying to catch up with him, but he was already gone.

"…Blaine?"

* * *

"Hey, Sam!"

Finn found Sam next to his locker, getting out his school books.

"Well, this is a first," Finn said.

"Yeah, well, I'm actually trying to pass this time," Sam told him.

"Hey, have you seen Rachel? I feel like she's been avoiding me all day," Finn asked.

Sam closed his locker.

"Uh naw I haven't seen her," Sam said.

Finn leaned on the lockers.

Sam felt a twinge of guilt. He wanted to tell Finn what happened with Rachel, but knew it would just end up in him and Finn fighting. And at the same time, he had told Finn countless times that Rachel was playing him.

"When are you going to get back with Quinn dude? You know you still love her," Sam said.

"She seems to have moved on from me. Plus I couldn't do that to Rachel," Finns aid.

"She could do it to you," Sam said.

Finn scoffed.

"Okay, we all know she had a crush on you way back when, but that was a long time ago," Finn said.

"Not really," Sam said.

"What're you trying to say?" Finn asked.

"Ask her," Sam said before walking away.

* * *

Mr. Schuester passed back Mercedes' test.

On the front was a big fat "C minus" in red ink.

"It's not like you to do so poorly Mercedes," Mr. Schuester said.

"I completely forgot we had a test that day," Mercedes admitted.

Mr. Schuester sat on his desk.

"I think it's safe to say you've been distracted these last two weeks," Mr. Schuester said.

Mercedes folded up the test.

"I'll do better," Mercedes said.

"I've cancelled rehearsal for this afternoon. Get some rest," Mr. Schuester said.

Mercedes got up from the chair. She stopped when a question popped into her head.

"If you were me…what would you do?" Mercedes asked.

"…I don't know," Mr. Schuester said honestly.

Mercedes left Mr. Schuester's office.

Mercedes looked at her test before throwing it in the trash.

"You okay?" Artie asked.

He had appeared next to Mercedes.

"You following me?" Mercedes asked.

"No. I did see you throw your test in the trash," Artie said.

Mercedes slumped to the floor next to the trash can.

"…Go away Artie."

"…If you need to talk to someone-" Artie began.

Mercedes stared at the lockers on the other side of the hall.

"…You think I don't know what you're doing," Mercedes said.

"What are you talking about?" Artie asked.

Mercedes shook her head.

"…Why did you tell me Sam had dyslexia?"

Artie shrugged.

"I…thought you would want to know," he answered.

"Or…you thought…if I found out Sam had a reading disorder, I would think he's dumb and leave him," Mercedes said.

Artie remained silent.

"I know how your twisted mind works Artie. You thought if you could prove Sam was a hopeless situation I would jump in your arms."

"I-"

"Don't lie."

"…Maybe I did" Artie said. "But it's not like you stopped me. You know as well as I do you were having second thoughts about Sam. Even Sam knew!" Artie said.

"I don't care if I was having fifth thoughts about Sam. What makes you think I would leave him for you?!" Mercedes exclaimed.

"It's not like it would be the first time you dumped a boyfriend for someone else," Artie said.

He regretted the words as soon as they came out.

Mercedes stood up from the ground.

"…I didn't cheat on Shane with Sam," Mercedes said.

"I know-"

"No, you don't. You don't know anything."

Mercedes started to walk away but then stopped and turned around.

"When you look at me, you see an over-emotional irrational person. But really, I'm just like my dad; logical. I rationalize the decisions I make. I like people who like me. I respond to kindness with kindness, and I respond to disrespect accordingly. No matter which way you do the math, Sam was the one who walked me home when I lived on the other side of town. Sam was the one who jogged two miles to the drug store to call me because he doesn't own a phone. Sam was the one who fought off firefighters to save me and six other people's lives. Sam was the one who danced on top of a cafeteria table just to get my attention. Sam was the one who asked me out FOURTEEN TIMES before I said yes, and you… Arthur Abrams, are just the boy who kissed me once…and then called me a whore."

Artie sat speechless. Mercedes looked down at him. She smiled sadly.

"I do like you Artie. And I'm flattered. But there is no contest."

* * *

When Quinn arrived at the Jones house she took the key under the doormat to let herself in. When she entered, she was met with dirty clothes and scattered albums decorating the ground.

A shirtless Mattie was bent over the couch. He smiled when he saw Quinn.

"What happened here?" She asked.

"I came home for the weekend. I can't find my temptations album anywhere," he said.

Quinn shook her head.

"Mercedes is going to kill you," she said.

"I'll clean it up before she gets home. You want a grilled cheese?" Matthew asked, going to the kitchen. Quinn followed him. The kitchen was equally as messy as the living room.

"I can only imagine what your dorm room looks like," Quinn said, as Matthew flipped the sandwich on the stove.

"Actually Phillip is a bit of a neat freak so it's not that bad," Matthew told her. "Plus, when I get a wife, she can keep the house clean."

Quinn scoffed.

"Screw you. This isn't the fifties. No woman in her right mind is going to clean up after you," she said.

Matthew smiled and flipped Quinn grilled cheese. Quinn impressively caught the sandwich with one hand.

"Are you gonna burn your bra now rebel?" Matthew joked.

"You wish. I was actually going to go to my house and pick up some stuff for my mom," Quinn said.

"Is she awake?" Matthew asked.

"Any day now," Quinn said solemnly.

Matthew turned off the stove.

"I'll come with," he said.

Mercedes made it to the court house an hour early. She went upstairs where the depositions would be held. She passed by the empty rooms and stopped when she got to the first closed door.

Mercedes put her hand on the door handle, but stopped halfway when she heard the conversation of her lawyers.

**Attorney #1:** What time is it?

**Attorney #2:** the girl should be here in half an hour.

**Attorney #3:** I hate this goddamn case

**Attorney #4:** Me too.

**Attorney #1: **We should hold a press conference after the deposition.

**Attorney #2:** What for? She won't agree to say anything anyway.

**Attorney #3:** You think Karofsky raped her?

**Attorney #4:** He should have killed her. Would have made this case a whole lot easier without her love life mucking up the works.

**Attorney #1:** True. Everyone loves a martyr. We could hold candle-light visual. The press would eat it up; A young black student cut down in her youth by the neo-nazi monster Karofsky.

**Attorney #2:** Maybe if we're lucky she'll get hit on the way to the courthouse.

The lawyers laughed. Mercedes backed away quietly. She slipped passed the door and went downstairs and out the city hall

* * *

"Someone has daddy issues," Matt said, as he looked around Quinn's room.

"What makes you say that?" Quinn asked as she packed the pictures of her family.

"Because you spent most of your childhood trying to impress him," Matt said holding up one of Quinn's many riding trophies.

"Mercedes is kind of the same way when it comes to my dad," he explained, putting the trophy down.

"I'm not the goody-good I appear to be," Quinn said.

"Surrree you're not," Matt said sarcastically, before Quinn tossed a pillow at him.

"At least I didn't switch religions just to piss my parents off like you," Quinn said.

"I'm enlightening myself spiritually and academically," Matt said.

"Something tells me your spiritual enlightenment is drug induced," Quinn said.

"Ha-ha. A good Muslim does not partake in such things," said Matt.

"But you're not a good Muslim. I really doubt you pray five times a day," Quinn said.

"Do you?"

"I pray every time I close my eyes," Quinn said.

"…What do you pray for?" Matt asked.

"I pray for my mother. I pray that God forgives my father. I pray that God forgives me for wishing my dad gets run over. I pray for my sister and my daughter and I pr-"

"You mean your niece," Matt said.

"Huh?"

"You called your sister's daughter your daughter," Matt corrected.

"…Right," Quinn said. "…My niece."

"Is this her?" Matt said, looking at the picture.

Matt held a picture frame of Quinn's older sister and her husband and their daughter.

"How old is she?" Matt said.

"My niece? Almost two now, she was barely three months in this photo. She lives in Albany."

"What's her name?" Matt asked.

"Beth," Quinn said proudly.

"…She looks just like you… but then again you look just like your sister" Matt said, handing Quinn back the frame.

"Yeah well…those Fabray traits are strong," Quinn said, putting the picture back on her dresser.

The doorbell rang.

Quinn moved passed Matthew. She went downstairs to the front door.

"My neighbors really need to get a life," Quinn said.

She looked the through the key hole.

"Shit!" Quinn breathed.

Matt came down the stairs with the Quinn's things in a box.

"What's up?" Matthew asked.

"It's Finn!" Quinn whispered, leaning at the edge of the door.

The doorbell rang again.

"Who's Finn?" Matthew asked.

"My ex-boyfriend!" Quinn whispered. "I can't let him know I'm not living here anymore."

"Ashamed to be living with a black family?" Matthew teased.

"I'm ashamed my mother is a suicidal alcoholic!" Quinn said slowly sinking to the ground.

Matthew rolled his eyes.

"I'll get rid of him," Matthew said, putting down the box.

"No, no no no no. Stop!" Quinn whispered as Matthew opened the door.

Quinn hid behind the drapes.

"Hello, can I help you?" Matthew asked nicely.

Finn did a double-take. He took a step back to look at the address on the mailbox before turning back to look at Matthew.

"Who are you?" Finn asked.

"I'm Matthew. Who are you?" Matthew asked.

"…I'm Finn." Finn said.

"Nice to meet you," Matthew said coolly.

Finn stared at Matthew awkwardly.

"…Are you a friend of Quinn's?" Matthew asked.

"…Yeah. Is she here? I wanted to talk to her," Finn said.

"…Actually, she's taking a shower right now," Matthew told him.

Quinn jabbed Mercedes' brother in the knee.

Matthew attempted to keep a straight face.

"…Oh," Finn said.

"Well…I could tell her you stopped by," Matthew began.

"No…it's fine. I'll just see her at school." Finn said

"Okay then. Nice meeting you Fred," Matthew said.

"It's Finn," Finn told him.

"Right. See you later."

Matthew closed the door on Finn.

Matthew and Quinn burst out in laughter.

Quinn hit Matthew repeatedly on the shoulder.

"Oh my god! I'm going to kill you!" Quinn said.

"Come on! You know that was fun. Plus, if you still like him, you can take him back later," Matthew said.

"I thought once you go black you never go back," Quinn said, picking up the box.

Matthew raised his eyebrow, as Quinn gave him a sly look.

"…Well damn girl," Matthew said, following her to the side door.

* * *

When Mercedes got home, she bombarded by the mess that wasn't there this morning.

"Damn it Mattie!" Mercedes exclaimed, picking up her brother's clothes.

She carried them to the washing machine in the back of the house.

The doorbell rang.

"Don't you news vultures ever take a break!?" Mercedes said, turning the machine on.

The person at the door knocked.

Mercedes went to the door. She opened it.

"I said GO AWAY!"

Sam held up in arms in surrender.

"Sam?"

"I come in peace?" Sam said, holding up a gift bag. "And I brought chocolate."

A tear fell from Mercedes' eyes.

"Come here," Sam said, pulling his girlfriend into a hug.

Sam closed the front door behind him.

"You relax. I'll clean up," he whispered.

…

Sam and Mercedes sat at the kitchen table.

Mercedes' feet rested in Sam's lap as he unwrapped another chocolate.

"Hm, no more!" Mercedes moaned.

"One more," Sam said, leaning in to Mercedes. "Close your eyes."

Mercedes closed her eyes.

Sam kissed her first before sticking a strawberry-mango twist chocolate in her mouth.

Mercedes smiled.

"I'm done," Mercedes said leaning back in her chair.

Sam silently watched Mercedes as he rubbed her feet.

Mercedes looked at him.

"…Why so quiet?" Mercedes asked.

Sam smiled.

"I'm thinking," Sam said.

"About what?" Mercedes asked.

"…About the first time I ever saw you," Sam said.

Mercedes smiled.

"At the dance," Mercedes said.

"…That wasn't the first time I saw you."

Mercedes squinted.

"Yes it was." Mercedes said.

Sam shook his head and smiled.

"That was the first time you ever saw me," Sam said.

Sam sat up the chair.

"…The first time I ever saw you, you were singing at my church. It was the first time I showed up in months, and there you were. It was like you were singing directly to me. I heard your voice and I knew…all the stuff that happened to me didn't matter," Sam said.

Mercedes was now the one who had no words.

"…When I was little, I was-"

Sam stopped when he heard a knock at the door.

"…I don't think my parents should be home yet," Mercedes said, pulling her feet away from Sam.

There was another knock.

"Stay here. I'll get it," Sam said, getting up.

Sam went to the door.

He looked out the window.

He didn't see anyone.

Sam stuck his head outside.

No one was there.

He closed the door.

"Who was it?" Mercedes asked.

"Nobody," Sam said. "I should probably go before you parents get here."

"What did you want to tell me?" Mercedes said.

"…It can wait," Sam said.

"…Okay," Mercedes said, wondering why Sam was acting strange.

Sam kissed Mercedes on the cheek before leaving.

Sam closed Mercedes' front door behind him.

…

Sam walked to his car in the cold night.

He parked it at the end of the block so Mercedes wouldn't get in trouble from her dad.

Sam heard footsteps behind him as he walked. He walked faster.

The other steps quickened.

The captain from the Trinity football team appeared in front of him.

He still had a black eye where Sam had hit him.

Four other players appeared behind Sam, blocking him on all sides.

"…I knew that was you," Sam said. "You must have lost your mind stocking my girlfriend's house."

"You're not so tough without your friends are you golden boy," the Trinity captain said.

…

Mercedes pushed Sam's chair back under the table.

She stopped to think.

Something wasn't sitting well with her.

What was Sam about to say?

Mercedes rushed out of the house to see if she could catch him.

Before her feet even touched the street she could see Sam down the road getting kicked to death by five other boys.

"SAAAMMMM!"

Mercedes ran towards him.

"MERCEDES GET OUT OF HERE!" Sam yelled as he got repeatedly kicked in the stomach.

"YOU'RE KILLING HIM!" Mercedes screamed, as one of the trinity boys grabbed her.

She fought and kicked, but Mercedes couldn't get free of his grasp.

"DON'T HURT HER!" Sam yelled.

One of the guys handed the captain a bat.

"Payback time," he said. "Hold out his arm."

"NOOOOO!" Mercedes yelled.

Three of the boys restrained Sam, as the other one held out Sam's arm.

"Let's see you throw a ball now," he said, hitting Sam directly in the shoulder with the bat.

Sam's yell wasn't even loud enough to drown out the crack that emitted from his shoulder blade.

Sam fell to the ground, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

He lay unconscious on the ground from the pain.

"Pick him up," the captain said, still holding the bat.

"PLEASE DON'T. LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Mercedes wailed.

"I think he's had enough, Tod," the boy holding Mercedes said.

"I'll tell you when he's had enough! Now pick his ass up!" the captain yelled.

"NO!"

Mercedes elbowed the boy holding her, escaping from his grasp.

She threw herself on top of Sam, covering him from view.

"Move her," the captain said.

The other boys didn't move.

"Did you hear me?! I said move that bitch!" the captain yelled.

Mercedes screamed when one of the guys touched her.

He quickly pulled his hand back, leaving Mercedes to cry on Sam.

"YOU GUYS ARE BUNCH OF PUSSIES!" the captain said.

"IF YOU DON'T MOVE, I'M GOING TO CRACK YOUR SKULL OPEN," he said to Mercedes.

Mercedes didn't move.

The captain raised the bat over his head.

Mercedes closed her eyes. She whimpered and cried but she did not move away from Sam.

The captain looked at his friends who looked at him to see what he would do.

The captain looked again at Mercedes, who was holding Sam's hand.

"Sam…can you hear me?" Mercedes asked.

Sam's eyes were still blank.

The captain lowered his bat.

The sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance.

One of the neighbors had called the police.

"Let's go," the captain said.

The boys took off, leaving Mercedes alone with Sam.

"Stay with me Sam…stay with me," Mercedes said, kissing his face.

* * *

Dwight and Mary Evans rushed into the hospital.

"WHERE IS OUR SON!" Dwight said to the receptionist.

"Mr. Evans!"

Dwight and Mary's heart fell when they saw the blood stains on Mercedes' dress.

"Where's Sam?!" Dwight asked.

"He's in there. They won't let me see him," Mercedes said, as a nurse blocked the room Sam was in.

"Let us see my son," Dwight told the nurse.

"You can go in when the doctor has finished looking at him, but she has to stay out here," she said, referring to Mercedes.

"…Do you know who I am?" Mary Evans asked the nurse.

The nurse didn't respond.

"I am the pissed-off mother who will go east-side-Cleveland on your ass if you do not move the hell out of our way," Mary Evans said, making the nurses' eyes grow big in fear.

"Nurse Patrick."

Santana's father, Dr. Lopez, came out from Sam's room.

"How is he?" Mr. Evans asked.

"There was some internal bleeding, two cracked ribs… but he's going to live," Dr. Lopez said.

"But what about his arm?" Mercedes asked.

"He's going to need two operations to repair all the damage, but he should gain full mobility back in his arm in four weeks to two months," Dr. Lopez told them.

"Can we see him?" Mary Evans said.

"Sure. We gave him something for the pain, so he's asleep," Dr. Lopez explained.

Mary Evans mean-mugged the nurse who moved aside so they could go in.

Dwight and Mary stood in front of a sleeping Sam.

His face was very pale.

Mary touched Sam's face.

He didn't respond.

"…This is my fault."

"If it wasn't for you, he'd be dead. Don't blame yourself," Dwight said.

Mercedes touched Sam's hand.

"I'm going to stay here," Mercedes said.

* * *

News spread fast the next day about Sam's attack.

The coach and the other McKinley players visited Sam in the morning.

Mercedes' pastor came and prayed with Sam's family before his first surgery.

After surgery, Mrs. Robinson, who Sam had visited during Thanksgiving, brought some food for Mrs. Evans and Mercedes who had spent the night in the hospital.

When Mr. Evans arrived with Stacey and Stevie, Mercedes took a break watching Sam and went to the hospital lobby.

There, she found Kurt sitting alone.

Kurt got up and embraced Mercedes.

Mercedes attempted to pull away from Kurt, but he did not let her go.

"…Kurt, don't," Mercedes said.

"Don't what?"

"Don't…" Mercedes said, but Kurt continued to hold her.

"…Would you stop being brave for a second? There's no one here," Kurt told her.

"I'm not being brave," Mercedes said.

"…Mercedes. You still have Sam's blood all over your dress." Kurt said. "…Stop being brave."

Mercedes stopped struggling. Kurt rubbed her back.

Mercedes sniffled into Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt, I thought he was dead," Mercedes said.

Kurt rested his head in the crook of Mercedes' neck, breathing in. He hadn't smelled her fragrance in such a long time.

Kurt finally let Mercedes go.

He used his pocket square to wipe Mercedes' face.

"I'm sorry I've been an asshole for the past few weeks," Kurt said.

"Months," Mercedes corrected.

Kurt smiled.

"Months," Kurt said.

"…I have something to tell you," Kurt said.

"I can't take any more bad news right now," Mercedes said.

"Well…it depends how you define bad," Kurt began.

"What is it?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt sat back down.

"…I lied to you when you asked me if I saw the Molotov cocktail in the debris. It was there. Santana picked it up and everything," Kurt said.

Mercedes covered her mouth.

"KURT! I KNEW IT! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?"

"I didn't want Karofsky out of jail. He kidnapped you and almost killed you. I was scared," Kurt said.

"But now the real bad guy is walking free somewhere, and we don't know who it is." Mercedes said, calming down.

"…What are you going to do?" Kurt asked.

"You mean what are WE going to do?" Mercedes said,"… And I don't know…I honestly don't know who to trust right now. My attorneys want to nail me to a cross for the sake of the cause, and they want Karofsky's head on a stake."

"There must be someone who can do something," Kurt said.

"First thing's first. I need to change," Mercedes told Kurt.

Kurt scoffed, reaching into his school bag.

"You think I came unprepared?" Kurt said, pulling out a new outfit for Mercedes.

* * *

Rachel entered Sam's hospital room.

"Sam?" Rachel said, slowly coming towards the bed.

She knew he would be asleep because he just got out of surgery.

Rachel took a seat next to him.

"Sam…can you hear me?" Rachel asked.

Sam stayed in his deep sleep.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Rachel said, tears flowing from her face.

Finn, who had just arrived at the hospital, waited silently at the door when he saw Rachel.

"You're probably lying there wondering why the world is such a horrible place," Rachel continued. "Why anyone would break your arm…or why someone would try to scare Mercedes with death threats."

Finn watched as Rachel bent down and kissed Sam on the lips.

Unable to watch, Finn left.

"…I did it," Rachel whispered in Sam's ear.

* * *

"Is this the place?" Kurt asked.

Kurt had driven Mercedes to an apartment complex in Lima Heights.

"Come on," Mercedes said

Mercedes and Kurt walked up the flights of stairs to get to the right apartment door.

Mercedes knocked.

Ms. Pillsbury opened the door.

"Mercedes? Kurt? Come in," she said.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked.

"Ms. Pillsbury. I need you to represent me against my lawyers," Mercedes said.

"What?" Ms. Pillsbury said chuckling. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"You went to law school," Kurt said.

Ms. Pillsbury shook her head.

"I didn't finish, Kurt" Ms. Pillsbury said.

"But you passed the bar," Mercedes said.

"I'm sorry…I can't," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"Ms. Pillsbury. I know the world outside this small apartment is messy and unfair…but I can't do this without you. I need you to help me. Be our teacher one more time. Represent me."

* * *

Sam's eyes slowly opened.

The first thing he saw was Dr. Lopez standing over him.

"Sam? Do you know where you are?" he asked.

"Mercedes." Sam asked.

Dr. Lopez smiled.

"She's fine. You're a lucky young man. Just wanted you to know the operation was a success. You should gain full mobility of your arm," Dr. Lopez told him.

"Coach will be glad to hear it," Sam said. "He'd bust a valve if he knew the team had to go to regionals without me."

Dr. Lopez frowned.

"Sam… It'll take anywhere from four weeks to six months for you to fully heal." Dr. Lopez began. "But even then... You'll never be able to throw the ball the way you used to. I'm sorry son, but playing football is no longer an option."

When Mercedes and Kurt made it back to the hospital, she found Sam's family, her brother, and entire New Directions in the hospital waiting room.

"…What happened?" Mercedes asked.

"The doc says Sam can't play football anymore," Puck said.

Mercedes' face fell.

"You're the only one he wants to see right now," Mr. Evans said.

Mercedes looked at everyone who had placed their hopes on her.

She nodded to them, and walked down the hall to Sam's room.

When Mercedes had made it to Sam's door, she watched him from the glass.

Sam sat there quietly in his bed. His chest was bare except for the large bandage taped around his ribs.

Mercedes gulped. Then she put a smile on her face.

She opened the door.

"Hey you," Mercedes said.

Sam turned his head slowly toward Mercedes.

"I'm sorry," The both said in unison.

They squinted at each other.

"What are you sorry about?" Mercedes asked.

"I know I promised I wouldn't get into anymore fights, but I swear MJ, what happened between me and them was before I-"

"It's okay. I don't care about them. I'm just glad you're alright," Mercedes said, coming toward Sam's bed.

"Are you just saying that because I'm lying in a hospital bed?" Sam said.

"Yes," Mercedes admitted. "As soon as you're all better, I'm going to hit you upside your head."

Sam grinned then winced at the pain.

"Baby, you can hit me as many times as you want," Sam said.

Mercedes smiled sadly.

Sam shook his head.

"You were right all along. Now look at me. I ruined my future with one fight," Sam said.

Mercedes took Sam's hand.

"Sam…You don't need football," Mercedes said. "You never did."

"I can't make the grades MJ," Sam told her.

Mercedes scooted on to the bed next to Sam.

"Artie can tutor you," Mercedes said.

"He won't help me. He only tutored me that one time just to get you," Sam said.

"Then I'll help you. I've seen you overcome more difficult things then silly tests. The Sam Evans I know wouldn't sweat over something like this. You walked through fire for goodness sakes," Mercedes said.

"It's way different. Your life was in jeopardy," said Sam.

Mercedes sighed.

"In that case, I need you to study like my life depended on it," Mercedes said. "Look at your future and think that failure would literally steal the breath away from my body."

Sam looked at Mercedes.

"You are what gives me strength Sam. If you ever gave up on yourself, I really wouldn't know what to believe in this world anymore."

Sam smiled.

"I bet you really want to kiss me right now," he said.

"While you're improving your future, ask God to make you less conceited," Mercedes told him with a chuckle.

Sam sat up in his bed as Mercedes leaned in to kiss him. When Mercedes felt Sam's hand on her back, tears immediately swelled in her eyes. She pulled away and gritted her teeth and tried to hide her face as Sam continued to kiss her neck.

"Why are you sad?" Sam whispered.

"I'm not sad. I'm overwhelmed," Mercedes corrected, with her face buried in Sam's shoulder.

Sam smiled, touching Mercedes' hair.

"Well, why are you overwhelmed?" Sam asked.

"Because, I love you," Mercedes confessed.

"Mercedes…" Sam whispered, as Mercedes rested in his arms.

"Uh huh," Mercedes said.

"…Marry me," Sam said.

Mercedes smiled up at Sam and shook her head.

"…No," Mercedes said.

"But I'm in the hospital. I could die at any moment, MJ" Sam said with a puppy dog pout.

"I don't care," Mercedes said with a smile, still lying comfortably on Sam. "That's probably the drugs talking."

"No, the drugs are telling me let's do it right now in this bed. I don't care if the doc has to reset my arm again," Sam said.

Mercedes laughed.

"I'm getting out of this bed before you hurt yourself," Mercedes said.

"You're not going anywhere," Sam said, pulling the covers over him and Mercedes.

The two laughed under the covers.

* * *

Mercedes walked down the halls of McKinley the next day.

Get well soon notes were written all along Sam's locker.

Mercedes spotted Finn pinning one of the notes.

Mercedes walked up to him.

"You could've just given it to him at the hospital," Mercedes said.

Finn turned around.

"Yeah…I stopped by…but I didn't get a chance to see him." Finn said.

Mercedes held her books to her chest as she looked at Finn.

"Honestly…I can't make heads or tails of you Finn Hudson," she said seriously.

Finn looked down solemnly at his feet.

"…I know you visited Karofsky in jail," Mercedes said.

Finn scratched his nose nervously.

Finn's silence aggravated Mercedes.

"…Was it you," Mercedes asked. "Answer me!"

Finn looked up at Mercedes.

His eyes revealed a boy who was clearly in trouble.

"…You know we're all not meant to be good people," he said somberly. "Some of us can only look out for ourselves."

"And that's you, huh" Mercedes said.

She shook her head.

"All signs pointed to you…and yet, I still can't wrap my head around you doing something like this. I know we were never friends, but do you really hate me so much that you would try to kill me?"

"I never hated you," Finn said. "…People like you…just scare me."

"People like me?"

"You're a butterfly," Finn said.

"What are you talking about?" Mercedes replied, genuinely confused.

Finn leaned on a nearby locker.

"In tenth grade we had to read this story called Sounds of thunder. The main character travels to the past and in this past he accidentally steps on a butterfly. But when he makes it back to the present, everything's different. You're small, pretty, and seemingly harmless, just like that butterfly…but every person you encounter, you throw their world upside down."

"I didn't change you Finn," Mercedes told him.

"Yeah, you did," Finn said. "And no matter how hard I try to fix what you did to me, it will never go away."

"…You know it was the man who stepped on the butterfly, not the other way around," Mercedes said.

Finn smirked.

"I know," Finn said.

He walked away.

"You never answered my question…Did you do it?" Mercedes called out.

Finn didn't reply.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Evans helped Sam out of the hospital bed.

"I can do it, don't worry," Sam said, standing up.

His arm was in a cast and sling shot.

There was a knock on the door.

Artie entered the room.

"Hi," he said cautiously.

Sam's parents looked at him.

"I'll meet you outside," Sam told them.

"Ok sweetheart," his mom said.

Sam and Artie waited till Sam's parent's left.

"How are you feeling?" Artie asked halfheartedly.

"As good as can be expected," Sam replied as he attempted to put back on his shirt with one arm.

"…I wanted you to know that there's nothing going on between Mercedes and me," Artie announced.

"Why, because you felt guilty about it?" Sam said.

"No, actually, because she turned me down…brutally," Artie said.

"…Did she now," Sam said with a sly smile.

"…You knew all along that she was going to do that, didn't you," Artie said.

"No idea. Mercedes is actually pretty unpredictable, which I kinda love about her," Sam admitted, pulling his shirt over his head.

Artie smiled.

"Yeah, she is," he said. "Is it true that you asked her out fourteen times before she said yes?"

"Sixteen. If you count proposals," Sam said, making Artie chuckle.

Artie held out his hand for Sam to shake.

"Friends?" Artie said.

Sam looked at Artie's outstretched hand before walking over to him.

He smiled.

Suddenly Sam jabbed Artie in the stomach knocking the wind out of him.

"What was that for?!" Artie exclaimed through coughs.

"That's for trying to steal my girlfriend," Sam said calmly.

"But I thought you were okay with me asking her out," Artie said.

Sam shrugged his shoulder.

"Yeah, and she told you no, so now I'm telling you again to stay away from her," he said.

Sam took Artie's hand and shook it.

"Friends," Sam said, opening the hospital door.

* * *

Mercedes' attorney waited in the classroom.

They stood up when Mercedes opened the door.

"Where the hell have you been?" The first attorney, Mr. Baker, said. "And who is this?"

"Emma Pillsbury," Miss Pillsbury said, holding out her hand for the man to shake.

He shook it reluctantly.

Pillsbury wore a dark green suit and white pearls. Her hair was uncharacteristically tied up ina tight bun. She held a briefcase in her left hand.

"You're lucky we could get a continuance with the judge or you'd be in big trouble right now," Mr. Baker continued.

"I want to settle this case. Now," Mercedes said.

"You can't," he said.

"Actually, I can," Mercedes replied.

The other attorney's looked at Miss Pillsbury.

"Do you mind giving us a moment alone?" Baker asked.

"Actually I would prefer if you speak with my client in my presence only," Miss Pillsbury stated.

"…your client?" Baker said.

"She's my lawyer," Mercedes said with smirk. "Did I forget to mention that?"

"A female attorney? What law school did you graduate from?" the white attorney asked.

"Georgetown, class of 1961," Miss Pillsbury stated.

"This is ridiculous," Baker said.

"I'm not going to trial. Karofsky is innocent," Mercedes said.

"That doesn't matter," Baker told her.

"It does to me. He's seventeen years-old. He doesn't need jail. What he needs is help," Mercedes said.

"And what do you suggest?" one of the attorney's asked.

"Five months in juvenile detention. And twelve-hundred hours of therapy," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"No way," Baker said. "I can't let you do that."

"As Ms. Jones' representation it is your duty to present this offer to Karofsky and his attorneys," Ms. Pillsbury said.

"Then I quit," Baker said smugly.

"You'll be missed," Mercedes said coldly, preparing to leave.

"Wait!" Baker said, stopping her.

"You can't do this. You have an opportunity to be immortalized, Mercedes. Children will read about you in history books," he said.

"I didn't ask for any of that. I'm just a kid. All I want is for all of this to be put behind me. You present the offer to Karofsky by this afternoon," Mercedes said. "And if you don't, I'll sue."

* * *

It was the next morning.

Mercedes walked to class.

Some people whispered as she passed. Others nodded their heads politely.

When she reached her locker, the word "SLUT" had been erased.

She looked over her shoulder then back to her locker. A light smile appeared on her face.

Just then, she heard someone clear their throat.

Rachel appeared next to her.

"Hey," Mercedes said.

"I heard what you did," Rachel said. "And I respect you for it."

"…thanks," Mercedes said, a little surprised by Rachel.

"I haven't been very nice to you," Rachel began. "You must hate me."

Mercedes shook her head.

"I really don't. Sam and I have had a hard time ever since I got transferred here. I've had girls steal my clothes and write horrible things about me. And I know you and Sam had something sophomore year. Anyway, I just appreciate that you let him and I be together without any drama. It was very classy of you," she said.

Rachel managed to force a smile to cover her guilt.

"Yes, well…I hope we can be friends," Rachel said.

Mercedes smiled.

"Friends sound nice," she replied.

Rachel walked away.

Mercedes opened her locker to put her books away.

"Hey, superwoman."

Mercedes jumped then rolled her eyes when she saw who it was.

"Hey, girl. Ready for practice afterschool?" Mercedes said Santana.

Santana leaned against Mercedes' locker.

"What did she say to you?" Santana asked.

"Who Rachel? Nothing. She said she wanted to be friends," Mercedes said.

Santana remained quiet.

"You're being strangely stoic," Mercedes joked.

Santana looked over her shoulder.

"There's something you need to know about her," she began.

"Does she have bodies hidden under her floorboards?" Mercedes whispered, mocking Santana's seriousness.

Santana bit her bottom lip.

"…It's about her…and Sam," Santana said.

Mercedes' smile slowly faded from her face.

"What about it?" Mercedes asked.

* * *

It was half past eight at night.

Mr. Evans pulled up to the Restaurant in his truck.

He got out, straightening his brown jacket.

He spotted who he was looking for through the window.

The waiter greeted him at the front door.

"Do you have a reservation?" he asked.

"He's with me."

The waiter moved aside to let Mr. Evans take a seat by his father-in-law.

"Nice of you to show up Evans," Sean Smythe said, as the waiter placed a menu next to Dwight as he sat down.

"I don't plan to stay long," Dwight said.

Sean smiled as he took a sip of his wine.

"So…I heard Sam is recovering well," Sean said.

Mr. Evans did not reply.

"Dr. Salazar is after all the best orthopedic surgeon money can buy," Sean continued.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we. I know why you're here," Mr. Evans said.

Sean smiled.

"I was actually expecting to speak with Mary. Where is my daughter this fine evening?" Sean asked.

"She's with the children. You can speak to me," Mr. Evans replied harshly.

"…I made the deal with Mary, not you," Sean said.

"I know what the deal was. And, for the record, I didn't okay any of it. So, you can forget it," Dwight said.

"Don't be stupid, Dwight." Sean told him.

Dwight scoffed.

"You think I'm going to hand my son off to you after what you've put my family through? You can't even keep your own family in line, and you think you can snatch Sam away to screw him up like you did Sebastian?"

Sean chuckled.

"Dwight…Let's not pretend that either of us are the world's greatest fathers. After all, Sam wouldn't even have such aggression issues if you hadn't spent his formative years in a nuthouse."

Dwight smiled, leaning back in his seat.

"Sean, I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did for Sam. Lord knows Mary and I could not have afforded that surgeon and I will find a way to pay you back. Be that as it may, Sam belongs with us. It's because of the way we raised him you're even showing interest in him now."

Sean intertwined his fingers.

"Dwight, no one is denying that you and Mary are good parents. You raised a fine boy. But frankly, you have no future to offer Sam. And the only means he had to pay for college is gone now because of his arm. I can offer him a future; train him, mold him, cover his tuition for Dalton and eventually his four years in Ivy League. And when he is ready, he will take over my firm which I originally planned to give to Sebastian. I need someone to carry on the Smythe legacy with honor and dignity. Sam is that person"

"No." Dwight said firmly. "You may be well intentioned, but I know how your family works. I will not allow you to corrupt my son."

"…I can gain custody," Sean said.

"Sam's eighteen. You can't touch him," Mr. Evans replied.

Sean smirked.

"You're forgetting your two other children at home, Dwight. Stevie is almost ten and Stacey is eight, correct? I'm pretty sure child welfare would be interested in knowing that their convicted father is keeping these poor children in a cold, rickety trailer, when they could be staying with their rich and caring grandfather. I'm best friends with a judge. I make one call to the state and Stevie and Stacey are mine."

Dwight smashed his fist into the plate in front of him, completely shattering the dish.

"Temper, temper," Sean said.

"You come near my family, I will hunt you down like the vermin you are and kill you," Dwight growled maliciously.

Sean got up from his seat.

"Think it through Dwight. You don't have many options here" Sean said calmly. "I expect to hear from Sam within the week."

* * *

The fall constellations sparkled in the uncommonly clear night sky.

Blaine rubbed his hands together in the cold.

He nervously looked over his shoulder before ringing the doorbell.

He heard footsteps.

Burt Hummel answered the door.

"Oh," Blaine said, not expecting Kurt's father.

Burt still wore his suit from earlier that day. He had a American flag pinned to his collar, next to his red tie.

"…May I help you?" he asked.

"Hello sir. My name is Blaine Anderson. I'm… a friend of Kurt's. I was wondering if he was home," Blaine said.

Burt took a step back into the house. "Kurt!" he called.

"Don't shout Dad! I'm coming," Kurt called back, running down the stairs.

Kurt stopped at the bottom step when he saw Blaine at the door.

"You have a visitor," Burt said. "Blaine is it? You go to McKinley?"

"No, Dad. He's a friend from Dalton Academy," Kurt said, unsuccessfully trying to hide the glee on his face.

"Ohhh, well come on in," Burt said, opening the door wider so Blaine could enter.

"…You have a lovely home, sir," Blaine told him.

"Thank you," Burt said, looking Blaine up and down before turning to Kurt.

"Dad…Could you give us a minute?" Kurt asked.

"Alright. I'll be in my office," Burt said. "Nice meeting you Blaine."

"You too, sir," Blaine said, as Burt walked up the stairs.

Kurt and Blaine waited till Burt made it all the way to the second floor before speaking again.

"Your dad seems nice," Blaine said.

"He's alright," Kurt said nonchalantly. Kurt resisted the temptation to run into Blaine's arms.

Kurt could feel his face becoming redder and redder every second.

"You look really good," Blaine said.

Kurt smiled.

"I called you. Where've you been?" he asked.

"Um, well school and work you know," Blaine replied.

Kurt nodded his head like he understood.

He slowly walked up to Blaine. He took his hand.

"I dreamt we'd meet like this again," Kurt said, unable to contain himself.

"I shouldn't even be here. It's too dangerous," Blaine said.

"Dangerous?" Kurt said with a smile. "My dad doesn't have a clue about us. He still thinks I'm dating Brittany."

Blaine looked at Kurt's hands touching his.

"…I really need to tell you something. I knew it would be better if I came, just in case someone is tapping your home line; I mean with your father being a congressman and all," Blaine said nervously.

Kurt laughed.

"I'm pretty sure no one is bugging our house," he replied. "Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?"

Blaine shook his head.

"I've missed you," Blaine said, still attempting to muster the courage to say what he came to say.

Kurt smiled.

"I missed you too," he replied.

"I… umm. You know I would never intend to get you in trouble," Blaine began.

"I know. I mean, Mercedes is a skeptic, but she'll warm up to you," Kurt said.

Blaine's mouth became very dry.

As he stared at Kurt, his brain thought just how horrible the news he had would be if he told Kurt.

His brain was at the point now where it just continually chanted to him: Do it, Do it, Do it.

"…Do you have something on your mind?" Kurt asked, when he noticed the blank expression on Blaine's face.

"What? No, go ahead with what you were saying. Well, wait. I mean…I have just a quick inquiry," Blaine stuttered out.

"What is it?" Kurt asked.

"Nothing!" Blaine said with a light smile. "Just…You wouldn't have happened to see Sebastian around…have you?"

Kurt's scrunched up his face in utter confusion.

"…Sebastian. No, I thought he was in Europe," Kurt answered.

A feeling of relief swept over Blaine.

"Right! He is! I was just wondering. It's stupid. Never mind," Blaine said.

But Kurt was already fully aware by now that something was definitely up with Blaine.

"…Sebastian IS still in Europe…Right?" Kurt said, still holding on to Blaine's hands.

Blaine face slowly fell as beads of sweat formed above his brow.

"Kurt…I screwed up."

* * *

Finn sat in the attic of his room, looking at the old wood in his ceiling.

Just then the doorbell rang.

Finn looked to his right.

His cowboy alarm clock showed it was after ten o'clock.

"Hm," he said to himself, as he rolled out of bed and went downstairs.

When Finn arrived at the front door he was surprised to find Quinn standing outside.

He opened the door.

"Quinn…What are you doing here?" Finn asked.

"I heard you stopped by my house the other day," Quinn said.

"Yeah…I did. And this strange guy answered," Finn said.

Finn stood in silence waiting for Quinn to explain herself.

"Yeah." Quinn replied. "He's a friend of the family."

"…Oh," Finn said, this answer only making him more suspicious of Quinn's new social life without him.

"So, I suppose you heard about the deal Karofsky got with the state," Quinn said.

Finn took a seat on the banister.

"Yeah. He got off easy," Finn said nonchalantly.

"Well…he was innocent," Quinn replied.

Finn looked at Quinn.

"And you know this because…" he said.

Quinn took a seat next to Finn. Her shoulder rubbed against his.

"…Because, you were there."

Though his face did not show it, Finn's heart stopped.

"… What…What makes you think that?" he asked.

Quinn smirked.

"Well, I was your girlfriend at the time Finn. There isn't much you can hide from me. I had my suspicions, but I wasn't sure. Then when you first time Sam invited Mercedes to sit down at our table…the look on your face when you saw her… gave it away."

Finn swallowed.

"If you knew, then why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

Quinn placed her hand on Finn's cheek. She slowly pulled his face down to kiss his lips.

When she moved away she brushed his bottom lip with her thumb.

"I didn't say anything because I trusted you to be the man I know you are," she said.

Quinn smiled as Finn continued to stare at her.

"I should go," she said.

Quinn got up from the porch.

Finn watched her get back into her car.

"Hey Quinnie," Finn said.

Quinn smiled at the sound of her pet name.

"Yeah?" she said.

"…I…I'm sorry," Finn said.

In what seemed like an overnight transformation to Finn, his ex-girlfriend had transformed into a warm and beautiful woman. Or maybe she always was and he didn't see it. He wasn't sure.

"Me too," Quinn said.

Quinn shut her car door and drove off.

* * *

**SEPTEMBER 12, 1965**

"Those Roosevelt coons wanna fuck with us, I'll show them who they're fucking with!" Dave Karofsky yelled as one of the McKinley players handed him the matches and the bottle.

Finn sweated in the backseat in the car.

How did he get himself in this situation? Finn swallowed and simply smiled as the other guys laughed. He knew Sam's girlfriend was in there. But who was she to him? What responsibility did he have to help her? And it wasn't as if he could do anything to stop what was about to happen. Finn kept telling himself this as he sat quietly.

They parked the truck in the field behind Roosevelt.

Karofsky got out the car.

As soon as he shut the door. His smile faded.

His intensity was replaced with an extreme fear as he marched to his destination behind the school.

How did he get himself in this situation?

His head was pounding and his vision was unreliable with all the drugs in his system.

He wiped his forehead.

He turned around.

He could barely see the truck now, but he could hear the other players still cheering him on.

"Man up, Dave," he told himself, as he reached the fence.

He threw the bottle over first, then climbed the fence carefully.

School was already out, so must of the students had to be gone. This thought gave Dave some comfort at least.

Dave picked up the bottle. He took a match out of the box.

When he looked to his left he noticed the wooden electrical pole with wires vining down its side and at the top.

He took a few steps from it. Not wanting to accidently cause an explosion.

Dave's heart began to pound in his ears.

This was stupid, he kept thinking.

What if he just left? He would never hear the end of it from his friends.

"Shit," Karofsky said.

At that moment, every bad decision Dave ever made whirled around in his head as he stood there by the basement entrance.

"Fuck it. Just do it you faggot," Dave pleaded with himself.

Dave lit the match. He watched the fire dance by his fingertips. He was entranced by the moment. And yet his limbs were locked, unable to make a decision.

Suddenly Dave fell to the ground.

Finn stood behind over Karofsky.

He still held the brick in his hand.

Afraid that Karofsky may get up again, Finn hit him a second time in the head.

This time Karofsky lay motionless.

Finn nudged Karofsky. He didn't respond.

Finn stood there, unsure if had killed him or not.

Panicking, Finn picked up the box of matches, placing them in his pocket.

Finn picked up the bottle and tossed it into the field of grass where it would stay hidden.

Finn ran back to the truck.

As sprinted through the field, the consequences of his actions had yet to set in. Unbeknownst to him, Finn had changed the course of his life and many lives.

The other players in the car honked when the saw Finn coming towards them.

Finn opened the door and got in.

"What happened? Where's Dave?" the boy driving asked.

"I couldn't find him. I guess he must've chickened out," Finn said.

The other players said nothing. After all it had been Karofsky's idea to burn down the school, not theirs. After Dave had left the rest of them in the truck, the other boys realized just how dangerous the idea was in the first place.

The truck started and the boys drove away.

…

While Karofsky still lay unconscious, the lit match in his hand had found some dry grass. The flame was small but determined. The fire traveled to the pole, sparking some of the wires. Before long the smoke surrounded Karofsky.

He coughed, the lack of oxygen waking him up.

When he finally opened his eyes and sat up, the fire climbed up the pole which was already too old and outdated. Dave moved just in time to miss the pole falling to the ground. Dave ran for safety, jumping back over the fence.

He watched as the fire spread dramatically around the school and into the basement.

...

Finn turned around in his seat in the truck.

He and the other players were already on Main St, but he could see in the distance, smoke rising from the colored school.

The player next to him turned around.

"I guess Karofsky decided to do it anyway," he said.

"Yeah," Finn replied.

Finn was overtaken by relief that Karofsky wasn't dead, but also a heavy grief knowing he tried to be the hero for once in his life and failed.

Finn quickly wiped his face before any of the guys noticed his tears.

**To be continued…**


End file.
